Unsung
by achieving elysium
Summary: For Marinette, her good luck has just run out. For Adrien, things go horribly wrong. In the blink of an eye, everything has changed - his friend Marinette is akumatized, Ladybug is nowhere to be found, and Papillon looms behind it all. The two heroes have to fight for themselves, but it's hard when they're on opposite ends of the battlefield.
1. Chapter 1

**Unsung**  
achieving elysium

part i. _liar, liar  
_ _chapter one_

* * *

"I can't believe this happened," Marinette mumbled around a mouthful of pins. She plucked another pin from its spot sandwiched between her lips and used it to hold the cloth in place as she sewed. "I'm just glad it happened before lunch so I could deal with it now."

"You got this, Mari," said Alya, half-cheering her on and half-replying to a few messages on the Ladyblog forums. She looked up. "I mean– _Mon dieu_ , girl, is that safe?"

"Hmm?" she hummed, taking the last pin from her mouth and gently pressing it into soft cloth. "Is what safe?"

Alya just sighed. "Guess it's a sewing thing. Is it done?"

She bit at the inside of her cheek and finished stitching up the hem, frowning slightly at it. It wasn't her best work. The hem had accidentally caught on something in her bag and had torn ever so slightly; she'd had to quickly make do and piece it together. It'd been rushed, and it showed, but as Marinette stood, letting the fabric fall towards the ground, her mind stopped picking apart the flaws.

"Woah," said Alya, standing next to her. The two of them stood for a second and admired the dress she'd labored over for so long.

It was beautiful, easily one of Marinette's best pieces and one she was really proud of. She'd started working on it _weeks_ ago, having saved up enough allowance to pay for the yards of fabric she'd wanted. The dress was one she'd be wearing in a few hours' time for Paris' Young Designers competition – sponsored, of course, by the one and only Gabriel Agreste.

She swallowed, doubt rising in the pit of her stomach. "Do you– do you really think I have a chance, Alya?"

"A _chance_?" Alya cried. "The second those judges see it, they'll be so impressed they're just gonna hand over that prize."

Something warm and heavy settled in her chest. "You think so?"

Alya grinned, bumping their shoulders together. "I _know_ so," she said, pushing up the rim of her glasses. "I'm as sure of it as I am about Chloé _totally_ losing it."

They giggled together, and Marinette threw her arms around her best friend. "Thanks, Alya," she whispered. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Spend even more time mooning over Adrien Agreste?" Alya suggested, and Marinette squeaked, shoving her.

"I don't– I don't _moon_ over Adrien, I just–"

Alya clutched at her face, framing at it with her arms. "I– erk– augh– _Adrien_ – eh– um," she mocked, tugging at her cheeks and gushing.

Marinette's mouth dropped, and she turned redder than Papa's red velvet cake. "I do _not_ sound like that," she protested, almost dropping the dress.

"Sound like what?" asked a new voice, and Marinette almost died when Adrien walked in, pausing to lean against their shared desk.

She made an unintelligible noise and went: "Ah, well, I, um, erk–" before promptly dissolving into a set of nervous giggles. Alya raised an eyebrow and gave her a look that clearly meant: _see?_

"Marinette here is just a little nervous for the Paris' Young Designers competition later," Alya said smoothly, and Marinette tried to compose herself. It was true, at the very least.

Adrien lit up. "I didn't know you were entering, Marinette," he said, smiling softly at her. Alya put a hand on her shoulder to keep her from collapsing right then and there. He looked at the dress she was holding. "Is that yours?"

"Um, um, yeah," she managed. "You're– _it's_ mine." The look Alya shot her made her want to melt through the floor; she'd never live that slip-up down.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Alya prompted, helping to smooth out the front.

"It is," said Adrien. He reached out and traced one of the patterns with a finger. "I think you really have a good shot with this one, Marinette. It's really well made. It's inspired by China…?"

"Right," said Marinette a little too quickly, but it was easier to talk about her design than anything. "Um, I wanted to incorporate my roots somehow, so I spent a lot of time talking to Maman and Papa about, uh, Chinese designs and stuff, but I also took inspiration from, um…" She scratched at the back of her neck and took a deep breath. "from French architecture and the city of Paris."

She plowed on for a little longer, pointing out parts of the design – how she'd taken the overlapping front and higher collar from a traditional Chinese dress but ditched the silhouette, opting for something that would flow very well if it were ever put on a runway, how she'd done the split back and made the construction angular to be reminiscent of the Eiffel Tower, how carefully she'd hand-stitched every flower that wrapped around the front.

"–and, oh," Marinette said. "Oh, I'm sorry, I should stop babbling, you probably don't want to hear about that–"

But Adrien gave her that warm, soft smile again. "That's really cool, actually," he said. "and I don't mind. You're really passionate about it."

Alya was smiling like crazy when she looked over. "See, girl?" she said. "Nothing to worry about. Everyone's going to love it."

Marinette ran her fingers over the soft, silky fabric and nodded mutely, raking her eyes over it. The dress was a pale grey – _not_ white, no, that was bad – and accented with deep gold. Red flowers climbed up the front, following the line of the fabric where it overlapped from the neck to chest. She'd stitched little dragons along the ends of the sleeves, collar, and hem. The back was another story in itself, the fabric coming together at a point just below the neck but splitting apart, folding over to form a triangular shape.

It'd taken weeks, a few sleepless nights, and a missed night patrol or two (as Chat had suggested) to get it done. She swallowed.

"I hope so," Marinette said finally, rubbing at her wrist. She suddenly wished she had the bracelet she'd given to Adrien for luck, but her searching fingers found nothing.

" _Did you make that?_ "

" _Good luck tonight, M._ "

" _That's so pretty–_ "

" _–_ _woah–_ "

Whispers of conversation drifted through the previously empty classroom as students filed in, clustering at the first desk to admire Marinette's work. She blushed, trying to ignore Alya's bright smile and answering questions left and right.

 _"–_ _we'll be there to support you–_ "

 _"–_ _it's not like Paris' Young Designers competition is_ the _most talked about competition around, who would miss it?"_

 _"_ _I hope you do well!"_

In between the compliments came a loud, too-familiar voice. Marinette made a half-strangled noise as Sabrina pushed through the crowd that had gathered, Chloé following with a large, deep red drink in her hand that she passed to Sabrina when she walked in.

The blonde girl scoffed when she saw what the ruckus was about. " _You're_ entering Paris' Young Designers?" she asked, twirling a lock of hair around a finger. She laughed; the sound was harsh and mocking. "You won't even stand a chance. You know, my daddy's one of the judges."

Marinette tried to keep her cool. It was hardly surprising, after all – Chloé never had anything good to say.

"Your point being?" she asked, mindlessly smoothing out the dress again. Chloé snorted.

"As if _you_ have any chance of winning," she said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Alya, her chair scraping as she moved closer.

"You wouldn't understand," sniffed Chloé haughtily. "First of all, that dress is hideous. Those designs – _so_ two hundred years ago. And who _are_ you, anyway?"

She jabbed a finger in Marinette's direction, and she tensed, her hand curling into a fist at her side.

"Excuse me?" she asked quietly as the people around them stirred restlessly, sensing that this would not go down well.

"You heard me," Chloé snapped. "Everyone in this class – hmph, I have to spell it out for you, don't I? You're a nobody, _Marinette_ , I mean, what, the daughter of some low-life bakers no one has ever heard o–"

Marinette slammed her hands down on the table, feeling one of the stitched flowers fold underneath her anger. Chloé looked taken aback.

"Don't you _dare_ insult my–"

"–little family?" Chloé interrupted, her eyes turning icy. "And what do you have that's so special? Just like your parents, no talent whatsoever. Sabrina, my drink."

There was a moment of silence as Marinette struggled to process the words, a heartbeat in which Sabrina handed her friend her drink. Chloé sipped at it once, assessing Marinette with cool blue eyes.

"You're pathetic," Chloé spat, her eyes locked on Marinette's face. "And – what _is_ that? No, don't tell me… those are _Ladybug_ earrings. As if someone like you could ever come close to being Ladybug."

"Hey," Adrien warned, but he stopped when Marinette screamed. The sound tore from her throat in the same way Chloé had just torn the earring from her left ear. She sagged against Alya, the world crumbling around her.

"I hope you know what you're doing is hopeless," said Chloé, cocking her head to the side, a malicious glint in her eye as she looked at Marinette's earring and laughed. The girl slipped it in her pocket. "Have fun entering. You don't have a chance anyway."

"Give that _back_ ," Marinette cried, all thoughts of her dress forgotten. "You can't– give that back, Chloé, _please._ "

Alya held her, passing a hand through her hair. Somewhere nearby, Adrien said something, but it sounded muffled, like he was speaking from underwater. Chloé turned as if making to walk away, but she paused, seeming to think differently. "Oops."

Everything seemed to slow down as Chloé's drink tipped, bright red juice spilling all over Marinette's new dress. Her hands shook as she lifted her dress to inspect the damage. It would be unfixable, the dress she'd worked herself to the bone over–

And her earring. Her Miraculous. The only connection she had to Tikki, arguably her greatest friend and confidant. Without it, Tikki would disappear, and with that, there would be no more Chat Noir, either…

No one held her back when she lunged across the table, fury igniting in her veins. Something white-hot simmered in her blood. Everything about Marinette – about _Ladybug_ – was meticulous, planned, thought-about from every angle and perspective. But for the first time in a long time, Marinette didn't think.

She didn't spare a single thought as her hands found the bright yellow of Chloé's jacket, didn't think as her lips drew back into a snarl, every inch of her being bursting with pure, unbridled anger–

"Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, what are you _doing_?"

Chloé shrieked, tugging at her jacket in an attempt to free herself. She went from surprised and mocking to completely terrified in a moment, the change too fast for Marinette to comprehend.

" _Madame_ ," she wailed, playing the victim.

"Max, Kim," someone called sharply, but Marinette wasn't listening.

"I'm going to–" she growled, but there were hands tearing at her. Marinette struggled against whoever was holding her back, caught between Max and Kim as she fought. "Let me go– Chloé, don't you dare, you don't– let me _go_."

She was faintly aware of the tears that were running down her cheek; Chloé looked back at her with a mix of satisfaction and disgust in her expression.

Madame Bustier wrenched her backwards, spinning her so she was trapped between the teacher and the desk, Chloé out of sight. Her head swam. She took deep breaths, chest heaving as reality hit her.

"Marinette, your behavior is completely unacceptable," she snapped, any traces of the bright, kind teacher wiped away underneath a mask of anger and disapproval.

She had no answer, no excuse, only the dying embers of what had once been an inferno raging inside of her. She took another deep breath, trying to calm down. Marinette dimly noted the fact that she was still crying.

"Madame," she tried, and the embers sparked again, the dredges of her remaining anger rising up. She could see a smug Chloé in the background, could just barely make out that satisfied smirk and the laughter in her eyes. Chloé had ruined her dress, had insulted her, had insulted her _family_ , and she'd taken away the connection to Marinette's second life – and there was no apology in that cruel face.

It was enough to cloud Marinette's mind again, enough for her to lunge again even as Madame Bustier held her tight and dragged her in the direction of the door.

"No," she rasped out. "No, _no_ –"

"To the office," snapped Mme Bustier, her voice leaving no room for argument. " _Now,_ Marinette."

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, any of it–

Marinette tore herself from Mme Bustier's grip and ran in the opposite direction, sprinting down the stairs. Her footsteps sounded like thunder, but it was nothing compared to the raging storm that tears through her very veins, the rain that collected in the hollow of her cheeks and in the palms of her hands.

" _Marinette!_ " someone called, and the voice was distant, too faint and faraway. She sobbed, barreling from the school and running blindly, letting her feet carry her to a destination far, far from Chloé's lies and her shame and her doubt.

Chloé was right in ways that Marinette didn't like to admit. In a matter of minutes, she'd destroyed _everything_. Marinette's dreams of the runway – flashing cameras and even brighter smiles – seemed like they'd been crushed now. And Ladybug–

A keening wail tore out of her, soft and desperate. Marinette told herself to stop, that it was okay, that she could figure things out; she always did. But something about the way Chloé spoke, her awfully sharp words cutting right at Marinette's weak points.

 _Ladybug._ Marinette stared at the dress in her hands, rubbing the soft fabric between two fingers and slumping down against a wall. What Chloé had said about Ladybug…

She reached up with two fingers, pain like lightning striking against the soft flesh of her ear when she touched it. They came back red, the same color as her suit, and Marinette curled in on herself. It really was gone, then, her Miraculous.

Not knowing what she was doing, Marinette slid the dress over her head, the soft fabric crinkling as it settled. She looked down at it, her hands finding the large, ugly stain right down the front of the dress.

"Stupid," she said to herself. "stupid, stupid, _stupid._ "

 _Worthless,_ said an imaginary voice that was not unlike Chloé's. _Stupid. You can't do_ anything _right._

She looked into the calm waters of the Seine, staring at a girl with a tear-splotched face and ruined dress. This wasn't her – couldn't be.

 _Not fair, not fair, not fair. Who would listen to a girl like you?_

She threw her hands over her ears, shrinking into herself. "What–" Marinette tried, her voice cracking.

 _Poor girl,_ whispered Papillon. Something dark flitted in the corner of her vision. _They're all wrong, aren't they?_

"No," Marinette said, her breaths coming short and fast. "No, get out of my head, I don't want–"

 _Don't you?_

She couldn't think straight; Marinette felt heavy, like she was weighed down with lead.

 _No one wants to listen to you, do they?_ Papillon hesitated. _But_ I _will._

Some part of her – the part of her that was feebly trying to resist – quieted. Marinette looked at her reflection again; above her face glittered a butterfly-shaped mask. "You will?"

"Marinette," came a soft voice, and her heart stopped. She knew that voice, recognized it. Something zipped in front of her face, and her heart cracked a little.

"Tikki," she whispered. Marinette blinked back the next set of tears, still feeling like there was something heavy sitting on her chest.

"I'm still here," the kwami said, looking up at her with big eyes. "I won't leave unless you want me to."

"Tikki," she said again, and the darkness faltered, the sight of her friend keeping it at bay. Marinette wasn't sure how long it would last, though – how long _she_ could last. "I failed, Tikki. The earring–"

"You're still Ladybug," Tikki reassured, though her words sounded as if they were coming from underwater. "and we can always get it back." Marinette wasn't listening.

 _Marinette, marionette, a fabricator of dreams,_ Papillon mused _. They've played you like a puppet. Your peers have lied to you – they're not your friends. How can they be?_

"A fabricator," she murmured. "My friends…"

 _Your so-called_ friends _watched as – what was her name, hmm, Chloé? – beat you down. No one bothered to help when she spoke; not even Alya, the one you call your best friend…_

" _No_ ," she wailed, clamping her hands over her ears in a useless attempt to block him out. "No, you're lying–"

 _Am I?_

Her voice cracked, but the man didn't seem to notice. _Don't you just hate lies, darling?_

Her voice wavered, but the word slipped past her lips anyway. "Yes."

What was the word Chloé had used? Pathetic.

"Marinette?" ventured Tikki, her small voice sounding panicked, and she stumbled back, looking at the kwami with wide eyes. "Marinette, you can't listen to him–"

 _Fabricator._

"Tikki, _go_ –"

The area around her face darkened, and Papillon's offer suddenly sounded much too tempting. There was nothing for her to lose from joining him. The competition had ended before it had even begun; Ladybug, too, was gone. A flash of red signified Tikki's departure. There was nothing to hold her back.

 _Chat…_ She hesitated, heart in her throat. "Chat," she choked out.

 _Even the superheroes of Paris do not want to save you,_ crooned Papillon.

"No, no," Marinette gasped out, but he was right. Chat wouldn't come – _couldn't_ come; there was no way he'd know. Her resolve weakened.

She was alone. She'd been lied to, ridiculed in front of her entire class.

 _Come now, Marinette,_ Papillon said, and she twisted her hands into the fabric of her dress. _No one will ever lie to you again._

Her friends didn't care. They would've been here by now, would've said more against Chloé, but none of them had. A word here and there, maybe, a comforting hand, but nothing else. Liars. They were no friends of hers.

For a split second, she could see _him_ ; he didn't look like the villain she knew. Papillon was smiling, hand outstretched. He looked like… like he really wanted to help her. Why had she been fighting him? Why had she been resisting?

 _Fabricator,_ he whispered, voice brushing against the edges of her mind, and Marinette smiled at that. _All you need to do is bring me Ladybug and Chat Noir's Miraculouses._

The answer to her own questions were somewhere in the back of her mind, but it didn't matter now. Something shifted inside of her chest at the mention of Ladybug and Chat Noir, though Marinette couldn't fathom why.

Marinette looked at her reflection again, at the butterfly mask and the ruined dress and the girl they covered. She chuckled. "Papillon," she said aloud. " _Transforme-moi_."

 **So that happened. This was really fun to write even though I furiously texted BFF Cho and good friend Haley (** _Silverleaf15_ **, I believe) during the entire process and rewrote certain scenes, like, ten billion times.**

 **Check out my trash tumblr,** _achievingelysium_ **, for thoughts/updates/multifandom stuff. Better yet, go follow my ML sideblog** _chassecroissant_ **bc I'm proud of that pun and also I'm going to start posting my content there, hehe.**

 **Yeah, this is basically just self-plugging. I hope you hate me.**

 _achieving elysium_


	2. Chapter 2

**Unsung**  
achieving elysium

part i. _liar, liar  
_ _chapter two_

* * *

Adrien had seen a lot of things. He'd watched as classmate after classmate was turned by Papillon, watched the villain feed on their darkest fears and negative emotions. He'd watched the destruction they'd caused. He'd watched as people screamed and the city of Paris itself cry and crumble under the darkness.

He'd never seen Marinette look like she did as Max and Kim wrenched her backwards, Mme Bustier a human shield between her and Chloé. Adrien liked Marinette. Sure, she was a little quiet – and around him, nervous, even – but she was kind, too, and there always seemed to be a smile on her face.

"Marinette," he called desperately, right on the heels of Alya. Her best friend ran straight for the double door entrance, breaking through at a speed Adrien wasn't sure he'd have been able to keep up with if not for his nighttime rendezvous.

" _Marinette,_ " Alya yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice. There was no sight of their friend, though.

"Alya, wait," Adrien said, grabbing her arm, and Alya turned on him, looking like the world had ended. He understood – the raw pain on Marinette's face was something he never wanted to see _again._

Alya rounded on him, eyes blown in anger. " _What?_ "

Adrien shrunk back at her loud voice, holding his hands up in a placating gesture though all he wanted to do was run and find Marinette. He cringed. "Um, we… we should split up," he suggested, and when Alya made no move, he hastily added: "to– to find Marinette so…"

 _So we can get to her before Papillon can._

Alya studied him for a moment before turning on her heel, yanking her arm out of his grip, and darting down the street in the direction of the Dupain-Cheng bakery. The pounding footsteps behind him suggested that his classmates, too, were joining the two of them.

He turned the other way and began his own desperate search, though as Chat Noir appeared on the rooftops, he wasn't sure they'd make it in time.

Adrien leapt from building to building, ignoring the way people glanced at him. He could feel their eyes following his movements, and his heightened senses – particularly his hearing – told him that they were more than curious as to why he was around or why Ladybug wasn't with him.

He paused for a moment. _Ladybug._ If she wasn't a student at the College Francois-Dupont, there was a good chance she didn't know about a possible akuma on the horizon. Adrien pressed the green paw-print on his baton and waited anxiously as the call rang.

Once. Twice. Three times. There was no answer, and Adrien cursed. He'd forgotten the other handy detail about their situation; if she wasn't transformed, there was no way he could contact her.

"Oh, my Lady," Adrien groaned as he scanned the crowds again, looking for Marinette's dark head or her telltale pigtails. She wasn't there. "Please show up soon."

"Chat Noir, over here!" Even from this height, the yell was loud and clear. Adrien dropped to the ground, eyes widening when he realized it was both Alya and Nino, standing together.

"Please, Chat Noir–" Alya pleaded the moment his feet touched ground. She looked close to tears, and Adrien swallowed back against the sour taste in his mouth. "my friend, Marinette– we– my friend Adrien and I… you have to help."

Nino butted in. "Dude, look, you gotta help us. If she's not found–"

He didn't want to hear it.

"I know," he said, ignoring their looks of surprise. "I ran into, uh, Adrien earlier – he told me what was going on."

They talked for another moment, but Adrien's heart wasn't into it. His senses tingled. Something wasn't right – on the contrary, something was very, _very_ wrong.

"Shh," he said, putting a finger over his mouth. The crowd around them had no such qualms, though.

Adrien cupped his hands over his mouth like Alya had earlier. "Hey!" he yelled at the gathering of Parisians. "Everyone please stay calm and quiet!"

Their words died down to low murmurs, and Adrien's heart sank in his chest as his instincts reacted, screaming at him to _move, get away as far from here as possible._

"What is it?" Alya asked, and the crowd hushed to hear his answer. Adrien's gaze flicked in the direction of the Seine and the busy roads beside it, always filled with people no matter the time of day. He could feel the cat ears on his head perk and turn in the same way.

"Do you hear that?" he asked in a low voice, worry gnawing at his insides.

Nino's brow furrowed; he tugged at his headphones, a nervous habit he'd picked up lately. "Man, I dunno what you're getting at, I don't hear _anything_ –"

Adrien looked him in the eye, his friend confirming what he knew. In a part of the city usually bustling with life, there was only silence. "Exactly."

Nino struggled to process this. Adrien turned the day's events over in his head, trying to figure out what exactly Papillon had preyed on – what would cause _this._

There was no time. Adrien leapt up to the roof, and his heart sunk even lower when he could see what exactly was happening. Far, far away, to his left, he could just barely make out a lone figure in bright red – but it _wasn't_ Ladybug.

" _MOVE!"_ he roared suddenly, surprised at the volume of his own voice, and the crowd scampered. " _GET OUT OF HERE, RUN!"_

He didn't stop to watch as they did; Adrien turned towards the writhing mass to the east and ran towards it. He'd hold her off – try to talk sense into her – until Ladybug could come.

The figure he knew was Marinette floated through the streets. He still wasn't close enough to make out what exactly was surrounding her, and his stomach turned as he advanced, creeping in the shadows.

He knew if Ladybug was here, she'd be teasing him – or maybe it would've been the other way around – but she wasn't; the silence was chilling. He swallowed hard. What if Marinette had gotten to his Lady?

"Where are you?" he breathed, searching the rooftops, but there was no sign of the girl he loved. He called her again – _surely_ she'd heard about Marinette by now – but there was no answer. There was something very, very wrong, and worry ate at his insides.

He hid, suit blending in perfectly with the shadows the tall buildings cut from the brilliant sunlight. Adrien wanted to rush in, to face Marinette and to stop her – for all of their sakes – but he couldn't, not really. Not without Ladybug here, certainly, and not until he knew more.

So Adrien crept along. He managed to pass Marinette; observing from behind a chimney, he realized the red cloud around her was actually made from _threads_. Red string darted everywhere like snakes, though he could tell they were all controlled by the girl in the center. He pushed down the urge to get to her first and instead dropped to where she'd caught someone.

Her victim – the one in front of him – was wrapped in the thread, bound from her mouth down. With a sickening start, Adrien realized he recognized the woman. Her dark eyes widened when she saw him.

"Shh," he whispered, a claw at his lips. "Try not to make any noise or struggle. She might hear us."

Sabine Dupain-Cheng shook her head, though she did stop fighting. Carefully – akuma or not, he was sure Marinette would have his head if he so much scratched her mom – he cut away at her bindings, catching her when she pitched forward.

"Madame–" he said, cutting himself off abruptly when he realized he wasn't supposed to know her name. "are you alright?"

He knew from the look in her eyes that _she_ knew it was her daughter out there, her own daughter that had trapped her.

"Thanks to you, Chat Noir," she said. Her voice was strong when she looked at him. Adrien wasn't sure how she hadn't broken down yet; if it had been him, he would've been a wreck. "but my daughter…"

"We'll save her," he reassured Mme. Dupain-Cheng. "I'm sorry that you had to– that she–" The words died in his throat, but she understood.

"It's okay," she said, even though it really wasn't. "and it's not your fault – the only one at fault here is Papillon." There was an angry tone to her voice now, her eyes flashing dangerously; she looked a lot like Marinette, he realized, with the way her jaw was set the same when her daughter was determined or standing up for someone else.

He swallowed. "What do the… threads do?"

She paused at that. "I think– I think they absorb sound."

It was a little disheartening, Adrien decided, talking to Marinette's mom about her akumatized daughter. More than a little. And he hated doing this, hated having to ask her what had happened to the girl, but it was necessary.

The gears in his head whirred. Adrien had to focus, had to think. The threads absorbed sound – but since he was talking to Marinette's mom, that meant they would only work through contact. He thought back to the multitudes of anime he'd watched, wondering if anything fictional could apply in real life.

Sound absorption. There was the possibility Marinette could _use_ the sound she took; for what, Adrien had no idea, but it wasn't a pleasant thought. There were so many possibilities, so many ideas and limitations. It was a little scary.

"Stay here," he finally said, putting a hand on Mme Dupain-Cheng's shoulder, hoping that the gesture would come across as reassuring. He flashed her a quick smile. "Don't worry, Madame. We'll save her."

Except Ladybug wasn't here– Ladybug wasn't here, and Adrien's frustration and desperation nearly tore him apart. He was lost without her here. They were a team, the two of them, partners that needed and balanced each other. And she _wasn't here._

Panic bubbled in Adrien's stomach; he forced himself to take deep, even breaths even as he extended his baton so he could continue tracking Marinette. The uneasy feeling stayed, though, a mix of fear, disappointment, and lungs that couldn't quite fill all the way.

"Chat Noir," said Mme Dupain. She looked at him with bright eyes. "I know you will."

He left feeling heavy, the weight of an entire city's fate wrapped around his shoulders.

It didn't take long to find Marinette again. How ironic, Adrien figured – instead of following the sound of panicked screams, he now raced in the opposite direction.

He bounded on the roofs, each leap getting him closer and closer to his akumatized classmate. Every step he took was carefully measured; one sound, and he'd be caught dead. With his luck, it was bad enough already – Adrien had no intention of adding to it.

Down below, on the streets, sound was cut off harshly, so abrupt it made his ears ring. Peoples' screams were swallowed whole. He licked his lips nervously, wanting to interfere but not knowing what exactly he could do. Adrien pressed the call button again desperately – no answer.

" _Help! Someone, anyone, please!_ "

"No one is here to help you," a voice crooned, and Adrien's heart hammered in his chest as he peered over the edge of a flower shop. Marinette stalked forward, both feet on the ground as she cornered a young girl no older than twelve or thirteen.

" _Please,_ " spilled from the girl's lips. A red string darted forward threateningly, hovering a few feet away from Marinette's next victim. Marinette tilted her head, looking curious. He moved quietly, dropping down floor by floor as to not draw attention.

"Who are you asking?" Marinette asked, cocking her head even more to the side. She really _was_ curious – why, he wasn't sure. "Why do you think anyone is here to save you?"

The girl pressed her back to a glass window filled with colorful bouquets and glared at Marinette. There were tears running down her face; she cowered back as Marinette took another step, but there was something else there, too. Determination, maybe.

"You'll see," she declared confidently. "Ladybug and Chat Noir will come. They _always_ do." She lifted her chin solemnly, a challenge. The makings of a hero, maybe, even in a girl as young as her.

"Such faith," Marinette said, and her blue eyes turned to pools of sadness. She reached forward and stroked the girl's cheek. Adrien's hand tightened around his baton; he gauged the distance between them. "I'm sorry I have to do this. They're liars, all of them."

One of her threads raised up, a snake poised to strike–

Adrien _moved,_ twisting in midair as he brought his weapon up–

–the thread caught around his baton, and Adrien wasted no time freeing it, spinning it quickly between his hands to act as a shield – for him, of course, but more importantly the girl he could feel at his back.

"Are you alright?" he asked, not daring to look away from Marinette. Another thread darted forward, followed by two more, and he blocked each one, reacting with the speed and agility of his namesake.

"Chat Noir," a voice breathed at his back. He recognized the emotion behind it. Hope. "I knew you'd come."

"When I tell you to," he said lowly, extending his baton so it caught Marinette around the middle, tossing her back several yards. He winced and reminded himself that she wasn't a normal civilian anymore, that she'd been granted strength and powers from Papillon, and that even though she looked scarily like Marinette, they weren't really the same person. Sort of.

It didn't help the guilt that clawed at his insides as she clambered up, face twisting in anger. Six threads aimed for him, and he turned, grabbing the girl without a second thought and leaping aside, landing in a crouch as hands clutched tightly at the fabric of his suit.

"Run _now,_ " he said, looking away from Marinette for one moment and meeting the eyes of a would-be victim. "Hide somewhere and do _not make a sound_ , you understand?"

A nod. She trembled in his arms. Adrien gave her a soft smile, hoping to ease her fear, and set her down gently. "You were very brave."

Another moment, and she was running away, her footsteps pounding as quickly as his heart. He turned back to his fight, baton at the ready, to find that Marinette had taken not taken his momentary distraction. Instead, she stood, a strange expression on her face.

"Why did you save her?" she demanded, and the words sounded so _wrong_ coming from Marinette's lips. She looked frustrated now, angry. "Why _did you save her?_ "

"Comes with the job description, Princess," he said, wary of any new attacks but letting his guard down momentarily. There was something _off_ about Marinette, an odd feeling – instinct, probably – that told him she was different. He shot her a smile, trying to cover the dark thoughts that flitted across his mind. "It's the right thing to do."

She shrieked. Apparently, he'd answered incorrectly. But still Marinette made no move to attack.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Shut up, shut _up_ ," Marinette shrieked, and her threads writhed around her. She clamped her hands over her ears and curled in towards herself, her strings wrapped around her in a protective cocoon as if she were a butterfly. A _petit papillon._ The thought made him sick.

Adrien knew he should take advantage of her weakness – whatever was happening at the moment. He knew he should take this chance to figure out where the akuma was and to somehow free it.

He didn't.

"Princess?" he said, and she reacted visibly to the name, her threads rippling violently. A half-baked plan formed in his head. " _Marinette_."

A stray thread moved for him; he leapt to the side and tried again. "Marinette!"

The threads dispersed. "That's _not_ my name," she hissed, eyes darkening in anger. Adrien wondered if he could've stopped this, could've prevented Marinette from being akumatized if he'd just _said_ something or if he'd been a second faster. "I'm _Fabricator_!"

Marinette– no, _Fabricator_ , looked shaken. Something he'd done – something he'd said – had had an effect on her, whether he'd intentionally done it or not.

"You're all liars," she cried, and he was barely able to keep up as she advanced, the threads coming from all sides, each one aiming for a different part of him to render him helpless. He gritted his teeth and held fast, though he was already tiring from keeping up. He had to escape to recharge, needed a moment to figure out what exactly was going on.

"I'd never lie to you," he said.

"No," she growled back. "Where were you, then?"

He hesitated, and Fabricator's threads slipped underneath his defense, wrapping around his arms and legs and tightening, pulling Adrien taught against a nearby street lamp. Fabricator snarled.

 _Where were you, then?_

He struggled against his bonds. The moment they'd touched his skin, something had happened. She'd taken his sound; there was only silence as he kicked out, only silence when he opened his mouth to say something. It felt a little like getting the breath knocked out of his lungs after a hard fall, like when he landed wrong or on the days D'Argencourt was particularly ruthless, only it was his sound being taken away.

"Poor _chaton_ ," she said, and something crossed her face before disappearing. The instinct that had flared earlier spiked again, everything inside of him screaming _wrong, wrong, wrong._ "You don't understand, do you, _kitty_?"

He struggled even more. Only Ladybug called him that–

 _Ladybug._

 _What did you do to her?_ he mouthed angrily, straining to free himself as anger overtook his veins.

Yes, Marinette was kind and sweet and caring. Yes, Adrien cared about her a great deal, even if she was a little awkward and klutzy. Yes, she was his friend.

Friend or not, if she had so much _touched_ his Lady–

"Oh, your little bug isn't coming," Fabricator said, her eyes clouding over. There was no conviction behind her words, a shaky foundation that would quickly crumble. Fingers grabbed at his chin; their eyes met as she leaned closer, warm breath brushing across his face. He was hyperaware of how close they were, and he jerked, trying to move backwards.

" _What–_ " Adrien coughed, realizing he could suddenly speak.

"Where were you?" Fabricator asked, and her threads drew back. A butterfly mask appeared over her face, but she snarled; the light faded. He coughed again, throat dry.

"I don't–"

Her eyes flashed. "Think about that answer, Chat Noir," she said dangerously. She turned and left, walking away slowly, a pair of dark-colored heels clicking across the street. She stepped over trussed-up bodies of terrified Parisians, his heart clenching as he watched her walk away.

Fabricator looked over her shoulder. "After all, I don't like liars."

* * *

 **What an ending, am I right?**

 **I hope you all like Fabricator. Poor Adrien... Haha, just you wait for the next few chapters of part i. It gets a _lot_ worse, I promise. On another note, I wrote ten thousand words of this story yesterday, bringing the current version up to 25k. **

**Feel free - in fact, please do - to leave a message, or come _chat_ with me on my tumblr (achievingelysium)! **

_achieving elysium_


	3. Chapter 3

**Unsung**  
achieving elysium

part i. _liar, liar  
chapter three_

* * *

"Chat Noir!" a voice called. There were footsteps. Adrien twisted, trying to see who was calling for him – who would be reckless enough to approach even though Fabricator could come back at any moment.

An old man appeared in front of him, panting. He leaned heavily on a walking cane, hunching over in obvious exertion.

Adrien's eyes narrowed, though when he tried to speak, only air came out. She'd absorbed his sound again, it seemed. _Who are you?_ The man was strangely familiar, though he couldn't quite remember…

"I am here to help you," the man said, straightening. He was old, very old, and had a distinctly Asian complexion. He didn't look particularly threatening. There were wrinkles around his eyes – laughter lines – and a warmth and compassion about him that made Adrien feel like he could trust this man, whoever he was.

The man moved forward, twisting at the curved top of his cane, and Adrien's eyes bugged as the top and bottom separated. It was a blade hidden in the hollow of the cane, deadly sharp. He didn't really want to think about what would happen if it came near him. He imagined it poking holes through a balloon and shuddered.

"I'm only going to cut your bonds, Chat Noir," said the old man, looking completely calm as if he swung around canes-slash-swords every day. The thought wasn't helpful. Whoever this guy was, Adrien was never going to intrude on his yard.

There was nothing Adrien could really do, the only reaction he could muster his tail whipping back and forth furiously as the man sawed at the red threads that bound him, snapping underneath the blade. He held still, not wanting to be accidentally cut.

"Who are you," was the first thing that came out of his mouth as Adrien dropped to the ground. "and is that legal?"

The old man chuckled as he sheathed his cane-sword. "Calm, Chat Noir. I will explain after you have freed them." He gestured at the almost-forgotten Parisians, and Adrien cursed mentally.

He used his claws to sweep through their binds, directing them far, far away from where Fabricator was advancing. When they'd finally left, Adrien turned to the old man.

"Who are you?" he asked again.

The old man gave him a wan smile. "My name is Master Fu," he said.

That wasn't very helpful. The name explained nothing about how he'd known about Adrien being all tied up, or about why he was helping, or why he had a cane-sword. Any of it, really.

Master Fu took a deep breath, looking suddenly tired. "Paris needs you, Chat Noir. Ladybug needs you."

That was all Adrien needed to hear. "Do you know where he is?" he begged. "I'm scared M– Fabricator's done something to her, and she's so set on keeping our identities secret…"

Master Fu sighed, reaching up slightly with a spindly hand and settling it on Adrien's shoulder. "Come with me, Chat Noir," he said heavily, already hobbling away as he leaned heavily on his cane. "we have much to discuss."

Adrien considered the old man once before following, his insides twisting. An echo of emotion passed over his connection to Plagg – the feeling only lasted for a heartbeat, but it was strong. Trust.

"Tea?" Master Fu asked the moment they'd stepped into the quiet household. There was something about Master Fu's homey place, a touch of something in the air or the feeling he got as he took off his shoes at the front entrance, bare feet sliding onto wooden floors.

"Um, sure?" he said. "You've got a beau- _tea_ -ful house, Master Fu."

The old man chuckled as he led the way to a small room, pushing the double doors aside. Adrien bit at his lip, suddenly aware of the gaping absence that Ladybug was supposed to fill next to him. She'd roll her eyes, no doubt, or call him a silly kitty.

"Sit," Master Fu said, gesturing at a mat in front of a small tea table. He picked up a steaming pot and poured two cups with a heavenly-smelling green tea.

After a minute or two, Adrien set down his cup and looked over the table at Master Fu, who met his gaze with a calm and level manner. "Who are you?"

The old man copied his actions before standing, crossing over to a large box that he brought carefully to the table. He made no move to open it, instead setting it between them and running his fingers over the designs on the lid.

"I am the Grand Guardian," he finally said. "and it was you I chose, Adrien, to become Chat Noir alongside Ladybug."

The air thickened. Adrien suddenly found it hard to swallow. "You… what?"

Master Fu smiled. "I chose you, of course," he said. "You gave up much to help an old man up after his fall."

His dark eyes twinkled, as if he knew something Adrien didn't. Adrien looked at the black ring that had become more than a constant in his life – and the kwami that came with it, as annoying and lazy as Plagg was.

"I…," he began, not knowing what to say. Master Fu knew who he was, first of all – an old man he'd never met. Secondly, he said he'd chosen him to be Chat Noir. "Wait, you were the man who… but–"

"Indeed," Master Fu said, looking even more amused. Then he sighed, turning grave. "Ladybug is in need of your help."

"You know who– where she is," Adrien said.

"Both," answered Master Fu. "though I am sorry to say I cannot quite answer them in a way you would like. We have spoken, Ladybug and I."

He hadn't known that. He hadn't known any of that, of being chosen or that there was someone who knew Ladybug's identity or that this man was quite possibly the key to saving Paris.

"Ladybug," he said urgently, brushing aside his thoughts. "I couldn't find her."

"You must defeat… Fabricator alone," Master Fu told him.

Adrien's tail moved agitatedly across the ground. "You mean…"

Master Fu didn't answer. Instead, he turned to the side and called out quietly, so soft Adrien wouldn't have heard him if not for his enhanced hearing. "Tikki…"

"Master," came a small voice, and out of thin air, a kwami appeared. Adrien's heart sank into his chest at the sight of her. Any other time, he would've been curious, maybe, or shocked, but at the moment, all he felt was dread. The kwami turned and looked at him with bright eyes. "Hello, Chat Noir. It's good to finally meet you after such a long time."

There was no other kwami she could have been besides Ladybug's. Tikki was bright red, and as she flew forward, Adrien noticed the large black spot on her back. Ladybug.

"Ladybug–" he tried, but the words caught in his throat.

"Chat Noir," Tikki cried, sounding relieved. She zipped in front of him, looking distressed. "You have to help us. Ladybug, she– I… something went wrong, I couldn't…"

There was an insistent tug in the back of his mind; before Adrien could stop himself, the transformation had released. Tikki stared at him with wide eyes before she was almost barreled over by Plagg.

"Tikki," his own kwami murmured, and they tumbled through the air together, clinging to each other.

"It's been a long time, Plagg," Ladybug's kwami said back. "Oh, _Plagg_ …"

Adrien watched their reunion, feeling bittersweet about it. They were friends, of course, kwamis who had likely seen civilizations rise and fall together – it was only natural for them to be happy to see each other. On the other hand, Adrien was ready to go. He needed to find his Lady, needed to save Marinette, needed to help Paris before it was too late.

"Tikki, we need your help," Master Fu said gently, interrupting. "You know better than any of us that we have little time left to spare. We need Ladybug to purify the akuma."

Tikki made a long, low noise that sounded like grief. "I can't do it. Akumas can only be purified with the combined efforts of me and the Miraculous-holder, and without Ladybug..."

"Then we'll trap it," decided Adrien, standing up. He itched to be back on the streets, the cityscape flying by so fast it looked like nothing more than a blur. "and then we can find Ladybug, you'll purify it together, do the Miraculous Ladybug thing, and then Paris and Marinette will both be safe."

Master Fu looked worried. "I'm not sure it's that simple."

"It's not," interjected Tikki. "I can't tell you everything - but even if we trap the akuma, we still can't... purify."

"What?" Master Fu demanded, and Adrien felt as confused and shocked as the old man looked. "Tikki, what do you mean?"

Tikki bowed her head. "I can't... I can't say more," she cried. "but there's no time to lose! We need to f- free Marinette first, and she can help us with... Ladybug. They're very... close."

Close. Of course, they had to be. Adrien remembered Evillustrator, how Ladybug had asked him to protect and work with Marinette. They had to know each other somehow - they looked similar, too, so maybe they were related. That would explain everything.

"Well, then, what are we waiting for?" he asked. Plagg groaned. "Plagg, _transforme-moi_!"

A moment later, he found himself in his suit, claws outstretched as Master Fu watched on calmly. Adrien watched, wide-eyed, as yet another kwami floated out, this one reminding him of a turtle.

"I cannot join you," said Master Fu, getting up and reaching for his cane. "but Wyazz and I are the Grand Guardians - if you bring the akuma to us, we will be able to trap it for a short period of time while you find Ladybug, Chat Noir."

Their eyes locked, and Master Fu nodded once, bowing at the waist.

"Thank you," Adrien said.

Master Fu only smiled. "You are a hero, Chat Noir," he said simply in response. "with or without the mask. Do not forget who you are."

He took a moment to let the words sink in underneath his skin and settle in his veins before turning to leave, slipping out the door without a sound. As he left, two pairs of solemn eyes watched him go.

Adrien burst into the streets, his mission burning on the tip of his tongue and at the front of his mind. _Free Marinette. Trap the akuma. Find Ladybug. Free Marinette. Trap the akuma. Find Ladybug._

 _Free Marinette_. He followed trails of red thread, claws releasing a few people as he tracked Fabricator through Paris.

 _Trap the akuma_. Tikki settled on his shoulder as he ran, vaulting himself further and further with his baton and bringing him closer and closer to the end with each leap.

 _Find Ladybug_. There was a crash nearby as Fabricator landed on the roof opposite him, her dark hair whipping around her face like a storm cloud. He grinned. It was time for the cat to play.

"Hey, Fabricator," he yelled. "Where have you been? I've been lying around waiting just for you."

"Enough of your silliness, dearest Chat," Fabricator shot back. "Give up your Miraculous. Can't you see you've already lost?"

He felt like he'd been doused in cold water. "I don't think so," he returned. "Ladybug might not be here, but that doesn't make this kitty any less dangerous, Marinette."

"I told you," screeched Fabricator. "It. Is. Fabricator, and you'd do well to remember that!"

He leapt in her direction at the same moment she released her threads, a cloud of red swarming towards him. He twisted through the air, as catlike as his name was, landing on a windowsill of the building she was on before using his baton to spring himself up and over her head.

She turned faster than he was expecting. He barely had time to dive aside as more threads shot in his direction, followed by more. They seemed to be endless, her strings - a good thing for her, he supposed, but not so great for him.

"Marinette," he gasped out, chest heaving as they circled each other. Eyes and ears open. Focus. Adrien had never been more thankful for D'Argencourt's ruthless regime and his own reflexes as he dodged again and again, hesitant to go on the offensive. "Marinette, don't listen–"

"To what?" she mocked, eyes flashing, though behind her words was a storm of hurt. "Your lies? You don't even care about me."

"Of course I do!" Adrien cried, picturing the girl he knew against the one in front of him. It wasn't a pretty one.

"That's what they all say," Fabricator scoffed, throwing her arm out. A handful of threads raced for his head, and he lashed out with his claws, catching most of them. One managed to wrap around his shoulder, tugging him forward and off-balance.

He let out a surprised yelp, barely managing to catch himself, one foot twisting painfully as he dug his toes in to keep himself from being flung off the side of the roof. He'd done that a few times – it wasn't exactly his idea of a good time.

"So tell me," Fabricator drawled, tugging him closer as he struggled. He clawed at the thread that held him tightly and slid into a crouch, feeling like a predator fixed on his prey. He swallowed. "What makes you any different, Chat Noir?"

His head spun. _Where were you, then?_

Adrien's heart caught in his throat. In a way… Fabricator was Marinette; there were pieces of her that were very and painfully real, darker parts he never got to see, just… amplified. It was hard to face her, achingly hard, just like all those other times – from Nino, his best friend, and Alya, the outspoken, friendly reporter, to Rose or Juleka, sweet as they were.

Had he not been a good enough friend?

This whole situation was something Adrien had to fix. There was Ladybug and Paris and a thousand other reasons – but at the center, at the very core, Adrien still felt like part of this was his fault. He needed Marinette to understand just how much she meant to him.

Naturally, the first thing that came out of his mouth was: "I really liked your dress, you know."

Fabricator stopped, her eyebrows drawing together in an expression Adrien vaguely recognized. He pushed on, taking a step closer and looking her in the eye.

"My dress…," Fabricator said haltingly, breaking the connection as dark blue eyes trailed down to her outfit. Adrien could see it now that he was closer; it had changed, of course, but–

The unmistakable outline of a butterfly hovered around her face.

"You were there," Fabricator said venomously, her eyes darkening until they were the color of the ocean on a stormy day. The piece of Marinette he'd seen was suddenly buried underneath a sharp frown and a cloud of anger. " _You were there_."

"Crap," Adrien whispered to himself. He'd been making progress – so close to reaching through to her, and Papillon had thrown his wings over her eyes again, shadowing her sight and poisoning her mind with soft murmurs he couldn't hear.

Adrien was too focused on Marinette – Fabricator – herself to react when she threw him backwards several yards. There was a momentary weightlessness before his instincts kicked in.

Fabricator flew into the air threateningly and pinned him back. Adrien sighed as a jolt went through him as her threads came into contact with his suit. There was just something about girls that usually ended up in kicking his butt.

"I hate you."

Adrien's heart sank. _That's a lie if I ever heard one_ , he tried saying. The threads tightened.

"I'm not interested in fighting you, Chat Noir," she said. "I don't want to hurt you."

Fabricator whirled around to leave, an echo of their last fight not even two hours ago. His insides twisted. How much longer could this last? He kept taking one step forward before finding himself two steps further back than he'd been.

Third time's the charm, Adrien reminded himself. _Free Marinette. Trap the akuma. Find Ladybug._

Fabricator shook her head, her dress catching in the wind. "Give up, Chat Noir – or else the next time we meet, I won't hesitate." He caught the thinly-veiled warning in her words, in the tone of her voice, in that shadow of Marinette passing over her again.

She hadn't hurt a soul, interestingly enough – only silenced them.

The butterfly appeared in front of her face again, and Fabricator's face contorted in pain as her threads thrashed wildly around her. He gaped, stunned as he watched Papillon control her even as he pressed his back to the rough brick of a chimney.

"Enough," she hissed to no one. "You'll get your Miraculouses soon enough."

She laughed. "Chat Noir doesn't even stand a chance."

"Meowch," Adrien summoned enough energy for a pun, though it fell a little short with no one to grit her teeth or smack him. "Hurting my felines."

The mask flickered again.

"Quiet, Papillon," Fabricator snapped, and Adrien took note of her annoyed expression, as if for some reason she wasn't particularly pleased about working with the only other Miraculous-wielder besides him and Ladybug. "Ladybug first – then Chat Noir."

Papillon's mark faded completely, the villain apparently mollified by her words.

 _My Lady, where are you?_

 _Where were you, then?_

Adrien closed his eyes and ground his teeth together. He got up, his muscles aching, his heart even more so. He'd never win, not like this, not if every time he faced Fabricator he could only see the person she'd been, the person she still kind of was.

So Adrien did the only thing he could logically think of – the one thing he'd promised himself he'd never do, not unless his Lady ordered it. Adrien turned tail and ran, fleeing the aftermath of his failures.

Maybe, maybe, one of these days, he'd be able to face it. Face her.

All of Paris and his Lady depended on it.

* * *

 **So _this_ wee freshman (everyone please hate me now) has an AP test tomorrow, so obviously she's going to post a chapter of her fic. Ha. Haha. **

**Let's be real a second, though - it is _killing_ me to post these! I'm currently writing chapter eight, which means there are scenes I've written and things I have planned that I can't say a word about. It's frustrating, keeping all of bottled up, 'cause ahh, I just wanna talk about it. **

**Check out my tumblr,** _achievingelysium_ **, and please, like, talk to me. Send me an ask. Review. I'm down for discussing anything and everything.**

 _achieving elysium_


	4. Chapter 4

**Unsung**  
achieving elysium

part i. _liar, liar  
chapter four_

* * *

 _Marinette._

Fabricator surveyed the city of Paris with sharp eyes, combing the angular skyline for any sign of Ladybug or Chat Noir. Something stirred inside of her at the thought of the two superheroes; subconsciously, her fingers found the soft flesh of her earlobe where an earring had once sat. They'd been important once; it was the only thought that kept Fabricator from sliding the remaining earring off of her ear and tossing it away, some part of her clinging to a life that was long gone.

 _Marinette._

The threads around her moved restlessly, looking like they were being carried by the wind. They murmured quietly, though Fabricator didn't listen to most of it. Her threads absorbed noise, but most of it was nonsense – news reports mixed in with soft pleas for help, nothing that really mattered.

 _Marinette_ , a voice whispered along the edges of her mind, and Fabricator frowned. Only Papillon could speak to her, and even now, he was strangely silent, letting her do as she wanted. And… the voice was different. Quieter, softer, carrying a spark of a memory.

Fabricator didn't remember much of being Marinette. There were flashes, pieces of a puzzle she hadn't quite figured out yet. The strongest were of Chloé Bourgeois and the girl's sharp, biting words, followed closely by Chat Noir of all people. She frowned again, lips pulling down. Her threads reacted to her emotions, twisting around her like miniature snakes.

 _Remember, Marinette_ , came the voice again. _Remember, remember._

The threads carried the same words to her ears, though they were distorted and fuzzy; Fabricator shook her head, trying to listen, but the words seemed to get fainter and fainter.

No matter. Whoever this voice was, whoever was trying to communicate with her… soon she'd silence them, too. Soon, it would only be her voice left – no lies, only the blade of truth, her sharp tongue a weapon of its own.

 _Remember._

Pale hands clenched the soft fabric of her dress as Fabricator listened. For a moment, she could remember – a boy, hair like spun gold, Chat Noir, grinning slyly, others with warm smiles, the smell of freshly-baked bread. She gritted her teeth and pushed the memories aside.

 _Marinette._

She tore at the hem of her dress. "That is not my name," Fabricator snarled to no one in particular, eyes searching for the source of her discomfort. There was no one to blame, though.

 _You have to remember, Mari–_

"Get out of my head!" she screamed, leaping backwards as her threads reacted violently, darting this way and that. "No more lies."

The voice – a presence, she realized, one that belonged to Marinette but certainly not to her – retreated. She let out a slow breath, hands falling limply at her sides.

The wind picked up around Fabricator, tossing plumes of dark hair like smoke around her face. She buried her face in her hands and felt her heart cleave in two.

 _Fabricator…_ , Papillon murmured, and though he wasn't there next to her, she heard him almost clear as day. _Remember your promise._

There was that word again – remember.

Fabricator picked at the hem of her dress. "Ladybug will come," she reassured him. "and Chat Noir won't be able to stay away for long. They're too… good for that."

She sneered, and Papillon laughed. _Of course, my dear_ , he said. _But I want those Miraculouses._

Fabricator hummed in displeasure, suddenly annoyed. "And you'll have them, Papillon." Oh, he'd have the Miraculouses, alright – and then she would silence him, too.

She stood, looking down at the street for a moment before leaping down gracefully, stopping an inch above the ground. Fabricator let her threads lead her to a small crowd gathering around a large screen, watching the latest news.

"– _Chat Noir last seen a few hours ago; we managed to snag a quick interview and found that the akuma raging through the streets is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a young girl–_ "

Fabricator landed on top of the screen, smirking down at her new viewers.

"You've got the wrong girl," she called, feeling giddy as her threads gathered around her. Someone screamed. "but I have some breaking news for you."

A girl turned to run and tripped over her own feet, sobbing. A nearby businessman looked panicked, clutching at the dark tie around his neck as if it'd just become a noose.

 _No more liars_ , Papillon said. Fabricator grinned.

"No more liars," she agreed; she'd visit that reporter later. There was a moment of sound, loud, horrible sound – a cacophony of screams and words she had no interest in hearing.

Then Fabricator swept an arm forward, and the girl who'd tripped was wrapped in red, then the businessman, then a woman and her son, until each and every one of them were bound and quiet.

She shuddered as the absorbed sound traveled back towards her, crescendoing in her mind before dissolving underneath her skin. Her eardrums felt like they'd been pounded on too hard by a band kid.

A small price to pay – a side effect of her new powers, Fabricator had quickly realized. The more sound she stole, the less noise she could hear. It was a dangerous gamble, one that ensured she'd never hear a lie again but also a disadvantage should anyone try to stop her.

"Don't worry," she said, hopping down from her vantage point, still on a high from the amount of power underneath her fingertips. Her voice sounded softer to her, quieter now. "Your heroes will come soon…"

Wide, terrified eyes looked back at her. "…but it's too bad they won't be here to save you."

 _Marinette_ , sang that voice again.

Fabricator twirled a piece of hair around her finger and waited, deep in thought. Three. Three was a lucky number, found everywhere and anywhere. In stories that Fabricator could barely recall being read to her, things came in triples – magic, people, happenings.

Threes also stood for something spectacular… _miraculous_ , even. More importantly, a great rise and fall. It was fitting, Fabricator decided – here, she would face Chat Noir for the third and final time, and he would not win.

Chat Noir would come; Fabricator knew this, knew it in her heart of hearts though she didn't quite know why. Ladybug… she hadn't lied, before, when she'd told him the superheroine wasn't around. Ladybug had truly abandoned Paris, not to mention her partner.

 _Liar, liar._ Chat Noir had said he'd cared. Ladybug had, once upon a time, promised to protect the city of Paris. _Liar, liar._

A soft thud sounded behind her, quiet through her damaged ears but still there. Chat Noir grinned as he saluted with two fingers.

"Just dropping by," he announced cheerfully. "Bet you missed me, Princess."

"I've been waiting for you," Fabricator told him, ignoring his words and instead drawing herself up, back straightening as she prepared. Her threads caught another victim behind him with a gentle prompting from her mind.

"How kind of _mew_ ," Chat Noir said, his smile widening. Fabricator caught a glimpse of sharp canines. "I really appreciate the welcome."

Infuriating, that was what this cat was – absolutely infuriating.

"Hmph," Fabricator huffed, but there was something almost familiar in the way he stood, in the gleam in his too-green eyes and curve of his lips. He'd said he'd cared – but no one had cared as she'd torn out of that classroom an eternity ago.

Chat Noir flashed his ring at her, the green pawprint on it teasing her. She narrowed her eyes. All the pieces were falling in place; the only thing she had left to do was take his Miraculous.

"Looking for this?" he drawled, spinning his baton casually before lounging against it.

Fabricator struck, faster than lightning as she sprang forward, her eyes locked on the Miraculous. Chat Noir was no hero – she'd expose who he really was, and finally Paris would see the boy behind the mask, no illusions to shadow his face any longer.

What was left of Paris, anyway.

Chat Noir matched her attack with cat-like reflexes that no one else could have done. Claws tore through her long sleeve, and marks appeared on her skin, red beading where he'd struck her.

She shrieked in both anger and pain, retaliating as her threads grabbed him and threw him far, far away, a silhouette in the city. Fabricator didn't let him escape, directing her threads to catch him before he could hit the ground and regain his footing. Two red stripes crossed around opposite-facing buildings and held him fast in the middle.

Fabricator let herself float up until she was perched on the threads, a tightrope with Chat Noir in the dead-center. Most dangerous were his claws, magically sharpened and able to cut through almost everything.

She balanced on the pseudo-tightrope and smiled down at Chat Noir. Absentmindedly, another thread came to wrap around his torso, holding him further in place.

"Is that all you've got, kitty?"

There was panic on that handsome face, eyes widening as her threads wound around him again and again. A spider and her prey.

He mouthed something, unable to speak, and Fabricator flicked her hand, sending even more red thread to wrap around his mouth until she could only barely see his black suit and a pair of eyes.

"Too bad no one's here to save you," she spat bitterly. "so now you know how it feels."

He stopped fighting immediately, eyes widening in horror. She laughed again, the sound sharp and painful to her own ears as she remembered running and feeling so, so alone.

" _Chat Noir_!"

The voice was so small Fabricator believed she'd imagined it until she found herself weightless, plummeting from the air as her threads snapped underneath her feet. A raw scream tore out of her throat before she could stop it, the sound scraping against her skin.

Chat Noir was already on the ground, running in a different direction, and Fabricator's momentary fear was replaced with white-hot anger. For all his supposed courage, his bravado, his heroics – and still he was running away from her.

Flying next to him was a red blur the same color as her threads. _Kwami._ The knowledge came to her unbidden and unwelcome; Fabricator frowned as her feet touched the ground, unable to remember how she'd known that or why.

 _Tikki._

She threw her hands in front of her as she ran, stumbling forwards in her mad chase after Chat Noir.

 _Tikki_. The name was enough to send a rippling shock through her systems, as if she'd been dunked into cold water. She didn't know where it'd come from or what it meant, but Fabricator didn't like it.

"A little out of breath there, Princess?" Chat Noir called back to her, bounding up the side of a building and running sideways for a split second before disappearing high above her head, the only sign he'd been there a flash of green.

She had to focus – she had to get to his Miraculous.

Her world rocked again. _Tikki. A pair of earrings._

Fabricator held her head as she ran, willing the memories from her mind. She tracked Chat Noir through the city, not even caring as they passed dozens and dozens of Parisians panicking in the streets at the sight of the two of them.

Up ahead, Chat Noir let loose a yell – a name, but her head throbbed when she realized she couldn't hear it. Her hearing was diminishing, deteriorating far faster than she'd thought it would.

He landed on a roof and spun around, claws outstretched as she slammed into him bodily. They crashed into some potted plants, and the balcony they'd landed on shook. Someone shrieked.

Fabricator shook her head, trying to clear it as her ears rang from the impact. Her bones shuddered, and pain flared up her right leg. It was instinct that saved her from Chat Noir's next attack, the boy flying backwards and crashing against the railing. There was a loud crack.

" _Mon dieu_ ," someone said breathlessly. "Ladybloggers, I am on the scene of the fight between Chat Noir and M– Fabricator herself. Front row seats, best view you're gonna get from any reporter."

The voice was familiar. Suddenly, so was the place.

"Alya, you idiot!" Chat Noir cried, and she sent threads tearing through the air at him. He deflected them with his baton, leaping in front of the other person on the roof with them. "It's too dangerous–"

"I'm getting the scoop on t–" The girl let out a surprised yell as Fabricator sent another wave of threads. Chat blocked her again.

"What did I tell you," he growled through gritted teeth, keeping himself between them as a sort of human shield. "It's not worth it, Miss Cesaire. Please go inside and stay there."

"No way am I missing this!" the girl argued, and Fabricator narrowed her eyes as she remembered an arm slung around her shoulders, passing notes as a teacher droned on and on, the glow of a phone and an even brighter smile. Alya looked at her, and Fabricator gazed back coolly even as her breathing quickened. "and this isn't _just_ a story, okay, this is real and that is my best friend–"

" _Shut up_!" Fabricator snapped, and she slipped under Chat Noir's guard and sent her threads toward Alya. She got to her before Chat could, red wrapping around her body; a shock traveled through to her, and Fabricator winced as her ears hurt. Her chest heaved as she took in the scene in front of her.

Anger roiled in her stomach. She forgot about Papillon, about Ladybug and Chat Noir, about getting their Miraculouses. All Fabricator could see was the girl she'd tied up.

 _My best friend_ , she'd cried, and the thought alone made Fabricator's blood boil. Her strongest memories were tinted with purple and black, how alone she'd felt standing against Chloé in a room that'd been filled to the brim with people. How no one had listened to her, had bothered to go after her.

"Hello, Alya," Fabricator said, her voice cold despite the fire that roared inside of her. Then she did what she'd done for Chat Noir and released the sound again, Alya coughing a few times.

" _Alya_ ," Chat Noir groaned, eyes darting back and forth between the two of them. He immediately knelt by her side, using his claws to cut away at Fabricator's work. "I told you–"

But Alya wasn't paying attention. Instead, she was staring at Fabricator, her gaze heavy and eyes wet.

"Marinette," she choked out, and Chat Noir gripped her shoulder in a show of silent support through the binds. "Marinette, you– you…"

Fabricator cocked her head. "That's not my name," she sang.

"Marinette, listen to me, girl," Alya begged. "I'm sorry about– about what Chloé did, and I'm sorry she said those things, and–"

"Is that what you think this is about?"

How pitiful. Chloé would have used the word pathetic, perhaps.

Fabricator took a step forward, her anger mingling with a sense of satisfaction as she watched emotion flicker across Alya's face.

"Marinette," Alya croaked out as Chat Noir freed her, standing on unsteady feet but refusing to leave as the boy next to her supported her weight.

"Did you ever think for a moment," Fabricator began quietly, her fingers finding a thread and toying with it. "that it was _your_ fault, too?"

The phone that Alya had been holding slipped from fingers tipped with blue nail polish and clattered against the ground, the screen darkening even as the blinking red dot implied it was still recording. A charm that had been attached to it rolled off and stopped at Fabricator's feet.

She remembered this. A Ladybug charm, red with black spots on one side and the opposite on the other – she'd made it for Alya's fifteenth. A birthday gift… and a thank you, for being her best friend.

The charm cracked underneath her heel, breaking cleanly in two.

A moment passed. Alya made a choked sound as she stared at the now-broken charm before Chat Noir grabbed her, scooping her up in his arms and leaping off the roof.

 _Don't let them get away_ , Papillon cried in her head, and Fabricator shook her head, beginning the chase once again. Chat Noir continuously stayed one step ahead, the only sign of him his cat ears and the long tail that trailed behind him.

He disappeared behind a building and reappeared with no one in his arms, but in his attempt to keep Alya safe, he'd slowed down, and Fabricator used that to her advantage. She swung forward, using her threads to propel her much like Ladybug did with her yo-yo.

Fabricator slammed bodily into Chat Noir, and they fell towards the street, landing hard on concrete and flipping over each other a few times. Her mind drifted ever so slightly as Chat landed above her, keeping her pinned with his weight, his strength holding her down.

"Let me go," she hissed as his hands found her wrists and held them down, preventing her from moving them. She bucked underneath him, twisting wildly as if she was a feral animal in a cage, but Chat Noir held fast.

"I don't think so, Princess," he retorted. "Third time's the charm."

There was a roaring in her ears. A moment later, Fabricator realized that they were in the last place she'd expected them to be in, right next to the Seine as the water raged. The beginning and the end, a circle. Whatever happened, it would end here.

 _Liar, liar, liar, liar_. She struggled harder, panic clouding her mind. _Liar, liar, liar, liar._ It was an unending chant, repeating in her head like a broken record – and it was enough for her to throw Chat Noir off, her blood singing.

The two of them panted as they faced each other. Green eyes stared at her, unwavering, and in them there was only warmth, a compassion she hadn't been expecting.

Marinette, came that voice again, and a cool breeze lifted heavy locks of hair off her neck, kissing her skin. Emotion lulled inside of her like the waves of an ocean; she was sinking beneath the waves, the water dampening all sound and leaving her breathless.

She couldn't move fast enough.

The air sang as claws clipped at her ear, razor-sharp as they bit through soft flesh and dark hair before managing to snip a few of her threads. He slashed again, and threads dropped to the ground around them, red lines littering the sidewalks.

She gasped, retreating towards the river as Chat Noir went on the offensive, his gaze burning on her skin. He said things she couldn't hear, the only thing Fabricator understood the emotions rolling underneath his words. He kept going, switching between his baton and his claws.

"No, no, no," she muttered. She couldn't lose, couldn't afford to lose – not to him, not to anyone.

So Fabricator blocked his next attack and sent her threads moving wildly around them. Red billowed around their legs, twisting up torsos and hanging around Chat Noir's head until he was completely surrounded.

He cut through most of them, but she replaced them, gritting her teeth as a wave of exhaustion threatened for her legs to give out underneath her. This was it. Fabricator had to make her move now.

Chat Noir lunged for her. She kicked at a spot right underneath his knee, and his mouth opened in a cry she didn't hear. Claws dug into her arm, drawing blood while keeping her in place, and he swung his baton with his free hand.

Fabricator ripped herself free from his hold and brought both arms up, catching the baton. They fought against each other, Chat Noir having the advantage of his strength and height, but Fabricator gritted her teeth and pushed back.

"Not a chance," she hissed through her teeth. Chat strained, and her feet slid backwards slowly until they were on the banks of the river, so close that spray kicked up against her back.

 _Marinette._

Her focus slipped with her, and Chat released, her momentum pitching her forward. She brought her arms up as Chat Noir aimed a punch followed by a harsh kick that would leave bruises and knocked the air out of her lungs.

He shifted on his feet, and his eyes flickered to her unprotected stomach. Fabricator knew his next move before he made it, a curled fist driving downwards where she was vulnerable; she caught his fist with a strong hand and ignored his surprised expression, hooking a foot around his and pounding him into the ground.

"Marinette," he said, breathless, and she could hear him as if his voice was breaking through a thick fog that had hung over her head. Her name echoed in her ears, and she brought a hand up to the ear Chat Noir had cut earlier.

Chat Noir gasped for air as he lay there, sprawled on his back. Without even thinking, she held in place there with a few threads, though the effort cost her more than she wanted to admit.

"Marinette," he said again, bowing his head. There was grief in his voice. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry."

 _Marinette._

Flashes. Running on rooftops, Chat Noir in front of her, looking back with an easy grin she hadn't seen on him during their lengthy fights. A hand in hers. Sitting together in a small corner of the Eiffel Tower overlooking the beloved city of Paris. A red, patterned yo-yo swinging in a hypnotizing circle. Loud laughter. The taste of freedom.

 _Marinette. Marinette. Marinette._

Chat Noir looked away from her, turning his sad eyes to the sky. "My Lady," he whispered, his words so faint she could've imagined them. "I failed you."

 _My Lady._

 _Marinette._

"Ladybug," she breathed aloud, and Fabricator brought her fingers down from her ear, staring at the blood that stained her fingertips. The wound stung as the wind caressed it.

Another flash. Reaching up with two fingers and finding emptiness, an earring that had been torn out by none other than Chloé Bourgeois herself. An earring that had been the same color as her threads… and her suit.

"Take it," Chat Noir said, turning his gleaming eyes back to her. Her heart shivered. His voice strengthened as he tried to sit up. "Go on, isn't this what you want?"

His ring shimmered in the light, entirely black with only a green pawprint on the flat surface. She'd seen that ring so many times, had run her fingers over it until she'd memorized the feel of it.

Fabricator knelt in front of him, transfixed. She moved forward until their faces were barely inches apart, breath mingling. She swallowed, and the threads released him as she took his gloved hand.

Chat Noir didn't even try to fight back. "I do care," he said, his voice thick. His eyes searched hers for something. "Take my Miraculous, Marinette. I trust you."

Somewhere in the distance was laughter, Papillon's laughter, but the sound was grating and harsh. Fabricator's hands trembled; something invisible compelled her to tug at the heavy ring that sat on Chat Noir's finger. Maybe it was Papillon claiming his prize. Maybe it was her own heart, a very, very small part of her believing the words he was saying even though it felt like everyone had lied to her. Maybe it was the look on his face as he'd told her he trusted her.

Marinette. In the corner of her eye, there was a flash of red; Fabricator looked up and found the kwami – Tikki – hovering above the both of them. Tikki called out to her again. _Marinette. I love you._

She could barely breathe, her lungs drawing in shallow breaths that were suddenly too loud.

"Marinette," Chat Noir said again. Tikki smiled. _Marinette._

Fabricator closed her hand around the black ring, cold against the skin of her palm and biting in her grip. The weight of it, the feel of it, was heavy and familiar, as if a part of her recognized it as something so much more than a piece of jewelry.

A flash of light. Blood roared in her ears, as did an angry but faraway voice, and around her red threads danced, fluttering in the wind. A smile, and tired green eyes glanced up at hers.

Fabricator felt infinitely heavy.

"Adrien."

* * *

 **Today's my birthday - so obviously, I'm updating with one of my favorite, favorite chapters. I'm exhausted - had a rehearsal and concert today, ahh!**

 **Of course, don't forget to come find me on tumblr at** achievingelysium **.**

 **As a birthday gift... review? Pretty please? Hamilton references always acceptable.**

 _achieving elysium_


	5. Chapter 5

**Unsung**  
achieving elysium

 _part i. liar, liar  
chapter five_

* * *

Adrien felt bare without his suit. There was an emptiness on his finger where his ring was supposed to go, a weight once there now gone. It was just him now – no masks, no suits, just Adrien.

The only thing Fabricator had done was stumble a few steps backward, her eyes locked on him. He hoped he'd gotten through to her, hoped that giving up his Miraculous – letting her see him – would give her the last push.

"Marinette," Adrien prompted gently, but she couldn't seem to hear him. Her eyes were glassy and dull; a tear cut through the grime on her face as she stared at the ring.

Her eyes looked straight through him, and Adrien shivered, glancing at his bare hands as he wondered if he'd made the right choice.

"You've done the right thing, Adrien," Tikki said softly, fluttering next to him.

"What if... what if I haven't?"

"Right thing or not," Plagg grumbled, landing on Adrien's knee with his tiny face set in a frown. While Tikki clearly agreed with his choice, Plagg didn't. "I want cheese."

Adrien groaned but complied, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a crumbling piece of Camembert that Plagg dove for joyfully. He looked apologetically at Tikki, setting aside the situation in front of him for a moment.

"I'm sorry I don't have anything for you," he said, spreading his hands. "and Plagg hogs food, sorry."

Tikki giggled. "Don't worry, I know," she said, and Plagg let out an indignant cry at that. "and cheese isn't really my thing. I like cookies."

"Cookies, huh?" Adrien asked as he stood. Plagg caught himself from falling and nipped at Adrien's hand with sharp teeth. "I think the Dupain-Cheng bakery is nearby, actually..."

Fabricator hadn't said a word after whispering his name. He turned back to her, sobering as he looked at the broken girl. Adrien moved wearily; he wasn't exactly sure what she would do next. She could bring his Miraculous to Papillon, but she wasn't.

"Marinette," he called, taking a step forward but keeping his arms out so she could see he meant no harm. "see? I trust you. I care."

She looked unsteadily down at the ring. Around her, the threads rippled gently but made no move to attack, something he was grateful for - he had little defense left, or the energy for it.

"Chat Noir," she said, her voice faraway. "You?"

He tried for a smile. "Me."

Even as they stood, the Seine roiling in the background, Adrien took the chance to study her in depth. He hadn't gotten the chance to despite their numerous encounters, her movements too quick and his focus on other, more important things.

The dress she'd made was on her now, hauntingly beautiful in an echo of what it had been. The pale grey had turned to white instead of darkening, but if Adrien recalled correctly, white stood for a lot of bad things in Chinese culture. He didn't want to think about the specifics.

The meticulous details had stayed, her dragon-rimmed hems and the exquisitely-draped back. The flowers, though, once red, had turned a deep, ugly purple Adrien now associated with akumas. Her gold accents were now black.

Right down the front, the most notable feature was the stain that seemed to divide the garment in two. It looked like a gaping tear, the stain black and much more extensive than he remembered it being, crossing from her left shoulder to her right hip in a mimicry of fashion.

She'd lost her pigtails; wavy, black hair curling slightly at the ends that came to her shoulders. Had Adrien not fallen for his Lady, he would've been captured by Marinette's looks - well, right after her kindness and the dusting of courage that seemed to come from nowhere at the most unexpected times.

"You...," Fabricator said uncertainly again. She swiveled on her heel but didn't run like Adrien had expected, only walking to the very edge of the river and staring at her reflection in it. He came to stand next to her, whatever fear he'd had gone. She laughed - this was not bright, like Marinette's, but it wasn't bitter or angry, either. It was just sad. "if I'd known..."

He didn't know what to say. Adrien had never had a civilized conversation with an akumatized Parisian before, or with Marinette in general, now that he thought about it. Especially not after he'd just given up his identity.

A butterfly glimmered over her face.

Panic gripped him. _No._

"Marinette," he pleaded. "we all care about you, you know? Your parents - your family - Alya, Nino, me, all of us... and I'm sorry we ever made you think otherwise, but I promise we do."

There was a blank look on her face that suggested she hadn't heard him. The butterfly mask remained, and Fabricator visibly shook, a shudder rippling through her body. She closed her eyes and turned her head away.

"Okay," she said, but she wasn't speaking to him. Adrien stumbled back as he realized what was happening. _I'm sorry, my Lady._ "I'll bring you his Miraculous."

She closed her hand around it in a closed fist. The wind stirred around them again, whipping her hair around her face and making the ribbons dance ethereally. The glowing papillon disappeared.

Fabricator stared him straight in the eye before a thread whipped forwards and wrapped around his arm tightly, pulling it forwards. He tripped over his own feet as she forced him to stretch out his arm unless he wanted to hurt himself.

His fingers uncurled without conscious thought.

And then, to Adrien's surprise, Fabricator thrust her hand over his. Something cold dropped into his palm, and she closed his fist for him, pressing his fingers hard against the Miraculous she'd taken not only five minutes ago.

"Take it," she cried wildly. "Take it, Adrien, _hurry_ -"

The butterfly mask reappeared, and Fabricator choked on nothing, her dress flickering as her own threads wrapped around herself. Adrien watched on in horror as Papillon controlled her with his own powers. He wanted to move, needed to do something, but Adrien found he couldn't move, his feet frozen on the ground.

"C'mon, kid," Plagg groused. "Hurry up!"

Adrien's mind was working slowly, as if his imaginary gears had frozen over with his feet. "What-" he began, gaping at his kwami.

"Transform, you idiot!" Plagg growled, and though he didn't seem happy about the prospect, there was something akin to terror in his eyes as he looked at Fabricator. Fabricator. Marinette.

Sliding on the ring, now silver, was a welcome feeling. A shiver of anticipation traveled through him as Miraculous reunited with hero. A draining emptiness he'd carried, an invisible weight on his shoulders, dissolved.

Adrien stared with wide eyes before he grinned. Chat Noir was back in business. "Plagg," he yelled, brandishing his ring. " _transforme-moi_!"

He slid into the mask easily, like it was meant for him. Adrien ran for Fabricator, and despite his screaming instincts, he did the one thing he'd been taught not to do from the very beginning.

Adrien used his claws to tear at the strings circling Fabricator, cutting them away from her. He shredded them like they were nothing, and a part of him laughed at how ironic this was, saving an akuma from herself instead of saving Paris.

Well. Maybe he was, in a way.

"Fight back," he yelled, each thread being replaced by three others. The butterfly mask glistened, but the eyes behind it shone with determination.

" _You_ ," heaved Fabricator. "are the only liar here!"

Adrien sailed back as Fabricator threw her arms out, her threads following her command. Papillon's trademark mask disappeared, and Adrien had the stray thought that the glowing outlines were Papillon's own masks, like Ladybug and Chat Noir's.

The air crackled with energy; Fabricator tossed her head back, exposing a pale throat to the sky. The threads flew out around her, each one leading in a different direction, until the world behind her was glowing. She looked like a goddess of vengeance, the way she stood.

It was both awe-inspiring and terrifying at the same time.

Adrien knew that even if Fabricator had managed to break Papillon's control - even if Marinette had managed to resist - there was still the akuma to worry about it. There was still the possibility that Papillon would take over again. It'd been truly miraculous that she'd been able to do what she had in the first place.

The only way to end it was getting rid of the akuma. And then-

 _Free Marinette. Find Ladybug. Purify the akuma._ The chant came back to him like a strike of thunder rumbling in his heart, and he clenched a fist tightly, watching Fabricator in front of him.

She wasn't moving, not really. While she wasn't quite Marinette, she wasn't running off to go terrorize Paris - or making a break for his Miraculous, which Adrien took as a good sign.

He raked his eyes over her figure, trying to figure out where the akuma was. There was the purse that Marinette always carried, now patterned with black and purple that made him sad. Her look had completely changed, and he wasn't used to it.

Then there was her earrings - well, earring. Anger rose in him when he remembered the way Marinette had screamed when Chloé had torn the earring from her ear.

But then, something whispered in his mind, there was the dress.

Marinette's dress, originally bound for the Paris' Young Designers competition that would be taking place in a few hours, if there were enough people not tied up to attend. Beautiful and intricate, made with loving care and long nights Adrien knew Marinette had sacrificed by the bags under her eyes and the constant presence of coffee perched on the table behind him.

He'd have to try to find out, he supposed.

"What do you think, Tikki?" he asked the kwami next to him, since Plagg wasn't exactly around to help - not that he would be very willing to, either.

"About what?" Tikki squeaked, looking distracted. Adrien remembered her saying that Ladybug and Marinette were very close - maybe, if they did know each other out of the suit, Marinette would know about kwamis, too. It made a lot of sense.

"The akuma," Adrien said. "I don't know where it is, but I'm willing to bet that it's in her dress. She made it for PYD, uh, Paris' Young Designers, and Chloé ruined it before class today."

"I know," Tikki said solemnly, and Adrien did a double take.

He coughed. "You... know?"

Tikki smiled. "Of course I know," she chirped. "I'm an all-seeing kwami, Adrien."

His mind fizzed out for a second. Plagg and Tikki were so different from each other it was a little disorienting. "What?"

Tikki shook her head, smile fading. "Sorry, Adrien," she apologized. "an... inside joke between me and Ladybug. She, um, Ladybug told me what happened."

Adrien had no time to think about what Tikki was saying - or to respond, for that matter - before a billion red threads were hurtling towards him at once. He yelled in surprise and dropped to the ground, a few passing harmlessly over his head.

"I thought... I thought-" Adrien muttered to himself, dazed. His instincts kept him from becoming a living mummy again, his feet carrying him even as his mind struggled to catch up.

"No, don't you see?" Tikki asked, dodging a thread herself. "It's Papillon."

"Papillon?" Adrien muttered, his brow creasing in confusion.

"Papillon's Miraculous allows him to create Champions, granting them the power they wish," Tikki explained as they shot past another section of red threads. "of course, Papillon abuses this power - and, well. But that's not important right now!"

"You're right," Adrien said determinedly, even though he couldn't see how the information Tikki had given him would help him out in this situation. "What's important right now-"

He rolled forwards, trying to get closer. "-is staying alive."

"Marinette's still fighting," Tikki chirped, and Adrien yelped as he lost his footing and slammed onto the ground. He was supposed to be graceful, Adrien thought ruefully, and here he was, tripping left and right.

"What do you mean, she's still fighting," Adrien hissed through his teeth as he pushed himself up onto his forearms. A moment later, the answer was clear. Adrien wasn't being surrounded by red thread like he'd thought he was going to be; instead, half of the threads aimed at different parts of his body, but the other half simply hung there, shaking in the air.

"Papillon can control his Champion's powers," Tikki explained. "and he's controlling Fabricator now, using her powers against you. But she's fighting - if Papillon had taken full control, you'd probably be a very wet and miserable cat right now."

He'd taken more than a few dips into the Seine thanks to those no-good akumas, and Adrien wasn't keen on doing it again. He could swim, of course, and had loved to - before he'd become Chat Noir, that was. After he'd met Plagg, he hated getting wet and avoided doing so at any costs.

Well, he'd given Marinette his umbrella once, but then, in that moment, doing that had been more important than a mad sprint to the limousine, though he had gotten sopping wet for it. It'd been worth it, though.

"Uh, Adrien said, distracted as he was dragged forward. He had to stop ending up like this, at Fabricator's mercy. It was really embarrassing. "Thanks for telling me."

Though his voice oozed sarcasm, Tikki kept up with him as he moved, though not by his own accord. Her eyes twinkled. "You're welcome!"

Adrien lashed out with a foot when he was close enough to, kicking with the force of someone who'd spent years and years fencing as well as swinging from roof to roof. Fabricator's own legs gave out underneath her, and the distraction was enough for him to claw through the threads around him.

"Get... out," Fabricator gasped, though the way she said it seemed to hurt her. Terrified eyes stared at him. "Hurry, get out of here, Chat Noir! I can't..."

"I'm not leaving you," Adrien said in a low voice even as she slammed into him. She was surprisingly strong - something he'd learned the first time she'd hit him, of course - for her small stature. Marinette was only a few inches shorter than him, but she had always seemed so small, drawing into herself at times. Next to that, she was impossibly skinny - not model-like, of course, but thin in a way that made her living above a bakery surprising. And she spent so much time falling over her feet - something Adrien found kind of cute, if he was being honest - that he'd never had much of a chance to see her in action.

Granted, being akumatized wasn't exactly how Adrien had wanted to find out just how strong Marinette was. It only spelled out disaster for him.

"You idiot," Fabricator choked out, but the moment was ruined when she brought a knee up hard. He howled, crumpling immediately, curling in on himself with imaginable pain as he cursed Papillon to eternity.

"You don't...," he gasped out, teary-eyed. "you don't play nice."

"I'm not a nice person, kitty," Fabricator crooned, and there it was again, that cold voice, the sneer, those shattered eyes. A butterfly mask hovered over her face for the millionth time that day, and Adrien wondered what lies Papillon was feeding her this time. With the akuma, even someone like Marinette stood no chance.

They traded blows. Adrien spent most of their fight on autopilot, the moves ingrained in his memory. A block there, a dodge there, a strike on the offense when he saw an opening. Instead, Adrien studied her, even closer than he'd been allowed to before.

He still guessed that the akuma was in her dress. The way she'd talked about it to him when he'd asked, the sparkle in her eye as she'd chattered excitedly about her designs - it had been so important to her. In a way, it could've easily been all her dreams in a dress, wishes in every cross-stitch and folded corner.

"Oh," Adrien muttered when he realized he'd have to destroy it. He didn't want to; Chloé's drink had ruined so much, already, but it was fixable, even if Marinette didn't think so.

But in order to release the akuma, something Marinette - Fabricator - couldn't do herself, he'd have to destroy the akumatized object. And there was no Miraculous Ladybug, no Lucky Charm to help salvage it, either.

So Adrien went for the purse first, even though he couldn't imagine Marinette without it. He caught it with a hand and watched the fabric crumble and give way underneath his more-than-sharp claws. No akuma.

"I hate you," Fabricator growled as her threads wrapped around one of his wrists. He took hope in the fact that he could still speak, that he was still capable of making noise even though Papillon had stretched his influence over her again.

"Quite the contrary, Princess," he said, grabbing the string and pulling. She was yanked forward, and he grinned as this brought their faces closer. "Friends don't hate each other."

A fist crashed into his face. The only thing Adrien could think as he staggered backwards from the blow was that he was going to need a lot of makeup at his next photoshoot.

"It's a good thing we're not friends, isn't it, kitty?"

"Is there any way I can get rid of the akuma without... without destroying her dress, Tikki?" Adrien asked. "I know it means a lot to her."

Tikki shook her head as she helped him cut through another thread. Plagg would've been more helpful, with his cat-like, sharp canines, but Tikki had a few tricks and quirks of her own.

"She'll forgive you, Adrien," Tikki reassured. "Don't worry. You really do mean a lot more to her than she lets on."

There was that moment again, that feeling Adrien couldn't seem to place when Tikki said something that didn't quite add up in his mind. She knew a lot as a kwami - a lot more, Adrien was willing to bet - than she let on.

He ignored it. Everyone had their secrets - models, kwamis, superheroes.

"I know, I just...," Adrien began. "I wish I didn't have to."

Tikki was much more gentle about it than Plagg would've been. As Fabricator sent wave after wave of red thread at him, pushing him back further and keeping him at a distance, Tikki stayed. "It's for the better. Trust me, Adrien."

"Okay," he said. "And I do. You're Ladybug's kwami, after all."

And it was Ladybug that Adrien trusted above anyone, before Nino, before Alya, before even Marinette, though he'd just revealed his identity to her. Ladybug who he was loyal to - for now and for eternity, the one thing that would never, ever change.

He worried about her, that she was somewhere too far out of his reach, bleeding out, maybe, or tied up, or-

He couldn't think about it. He had to trust that she was okay, that she could take care of herself - she was Ladybug, after all. She was the strongest person Adrien had ever met. If anyone could make it out a sticky situation, it would be her.

"Why can't you just stay away?" Fabricator hissed in frustration. "Why can't I win against you, Chat Noir?"

Chat Noir, not Adrien. A flash of concern passed over him. Did Papillon know who he was?

But there'd been no indication of that. Maybe, Adrien hoped, maybe when he'd revealed himself, there was enough of Marinette to keep him from knowing. Or better yet, Papillon wouldn't have cared to see who was behind the mask, not once Fabricator had taken his Miraculous.

"Sorry," Adrien sang, though he really wasn't. "but you're not getting my Miraculous from me again, Princess."

"Stop calling me that," Fabricator said angrily, but her voice wavered when she did. He smiled to himself.

"Make me, Princess," he teased. "I'd like to see you try."

"You're going to regret that," Fabricator shot back, and while Adrien was glad to see she hadn't lost her sense of competition, he'd also seen firsthand how dangerous she was. This wasn't going to be fun. At all.

All he had to do, Adrien reassured himself, was get close enough to tear through her dress. An echo of a thought passed over the connection Plagg had with him, and he smiled.

"Tikki," he said slowly, a plan concocting in his mind. This wasn't something Adrien was used to - usually, he leapt straight into the fray, Ladybug acting as both the planner and his damage control. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Tell me what you need done."

"Do you think you can distract, uh, Fabricator? You seem like you know her - try to get her focused on you so I can get closer."

"Done," Tikki said, and Adrien marvelled at how much could be contained into such a small being. Tikki disappeared from sight, blending right in with Fabricator's threads. Perfect.

As he'd hoped, Fabricator focused on Tikki. Not completely, of course - she was still very aware of him, but now her attention was divided in two instead of settling completely on him.

Adrien hadn't really thought too much further than just getting closer to Fabricator and tearing the dress. The real obstacle were Fabricator's threads. They were like the hydra heads of myth; if he cut down one, another two would take its place almost immediately.

Tikki flitted around Fabricator's face, nothing more than a red blur. He couldn't hear what she was saying, if she was saying anything at all. He frowned but trusted the kwami anyways.

Adrien could only think of one thing that would give him enough of an advantage. He raised his hand and summoned a wave of courage.

" _CATACLYSM_!"

Bad luck in its purest form bubbled between his claws, black as tar. It was cold, his power, so unlike Ladybug's, which felt warm and soothing as it swept around and healed the day's wounds.

With no time to waste, Adrien closed his gloved hand around the nearest thread he could find. Cataclysm ate away at the threads, turning them a dark black before causing them to fall as if snipped. He ran towards Fabricator, who was screaming as her threads fell around her.

"No," she cried, turning in time to brace herself against him.

He danced out of the way of a heavy kick, returning the favor with one of his own. Adrien managed to claw at her sleeves again, but it wasn't enough. Her dress needed to be torn, truly damaged.

Finally, Adrien managed to grab her wrists. Fabricator glared back at him, but the fire in her eyes meant nothing as he held her at bay.

"Let me go, you mangy alley cat," she yelled.

"Harsh," Adrien muttered to himself. He raised his voice. "No can do, Princess."

Fabricator managed to tear herself free, using balled-up fists to pound at his chest, though her blows were weak. She was crying, he realized, tears streaming down her face like they were endless pools.

"Why?" Fabricator wailed, and his heart squeezed. Even if he managed to save her, even if he found Ladybug and the whole of Paris was stitched back together by her healing light, he knew something in him had changed that was going to stay with him for a very long time. "Why, why, _why_?"

Adrien stopped her fists, catching one in each hand and then throwing himself forward without thing. His arms snaked over Fabricator's shoulders, and he pressed her to his chest even as their breathing quickened and hearts beat in harmony.

"Chat Noir," Fabricator whispered.

"Marinette," he responded in turn. "I'm sorry."

His ring beeped once, a warning that the clock was ticking. And then, before Fabricator could stop him when she and Papillon realized what he was doing, Adrien tore at the back of her dress.

A ripping sound that might've been fabric but equally as possible the sound of his heart. Something giving way beneath his fingers. Darkness drifting around the girl in his arms.

"I've got you, Princess," he whispered. Adrien pulled Marinette closer, holding her tightly as the akuma flapped away above their heads. "I've got you."

* * *

 **I know I haven't updated in a while, but it was mostly because I was (and still am) afraid of how this chapter is going to be received. It is arguably one of the most important and emotional scenes in the entire fanfic, though chapter one was harsh - and the upcoming chapter six, ooh.**

 **I hope you liked it. As usual, go find me on tumblr at** _achievingelysium_ **and come talk to me. No one talks to me please talk to me.**

 _achieving elysium_


	6. Chapter 6

**Unsung**  
achieving elysium

 _part ii. world on fire  
chapter six_

* * *

Adrien landed right in front of the Dupain-Cheng boulangerie, where a crowd of reporters had gathered, hoping to ask the Dupain-Chengs about their akumatized daughter - the same person he was holding in his arms now.

"It's Chat Noir," someone called.

"Chat Noir, over here?"

"Is that Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

"Live now, reporting from outside the Dupain-Cheng boulangerie-"

"Get out, all of you," Adrien interrupted rudely, though he didn't care one bit. "As you can see, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng is fine. Please don't bother the Dupain-Chengs - or anyone, for that matter. As for Ladybug, she was caught up in the attack but will be able to restore the city soon."

Before they could bombard him with questions, Adrien pushed the door into the boulangerie and kicked it shut behind him. He set Marinette down carefully, though she clutched at his neck reluctantly.

"Don't," she said, voice soft.

"I'm still here, Princess," he said, matching her volume. Adrien looked up at the Dupain-Chengs - and unsurprisingly, Alya and Nino - and smiled softly at them.

"Marinette?"

Madame Dupain-Cheng was the first to speak. Marinette let out a sob even as Adrien put a comforting hand at her back.

"Maman," Marinette said, and the spell over the room seemed to break. Everyone rushed forwards at once, Monsieur Dupain putting his big arms around his wife and daughter, Nino and Alya squeezing in.

Adrien watched on with a mix of happiness and longing, lingering by the door. He'd have to leave soon; his transformation would wear off, and there was no doubt Nathalie would start scouring the streets once she found out it was safe. But watching them, especially now that Marinette knew... he didn't want to leave.

His Miraculous beeped, and Marinette shouldered her way out of the group hug, her eyes red. She looked like she was ready to break, but there was a determined glint in her eye when she faced him.

"You can detransform in my room," she told him. "I'll get, uh, some cheese biscuits, and I think we might have a little Camembart, though I'll have to look."

"Marinette," he tried, but she shook her head.

"Go," she said, and when their eyes met again, she smiled. A weak one, but it was there. His heart lifted slightly.

He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, okay, that - yeah."

"Chat Noir," Monsieur Dupain interrupted as he was about to head up. A heavy hand settled onto his shoulder as a kind, tired-looking face looked down into his. "Thank you for saving my daughter."

He shook his head, but smiled anyway before climbing up to the second level, leaving the reunited family behind again. A minute later, Adrien found himself in Marinette's room, settling himself on the chaise by the window, stretching out his aching body.

There was a flash of light, and Plagg flopped in the air, moaning loudly.

"Cheese," Plagg yowled dramatically, and Adrien rubbed at his temples. "I need cheese or I'm going to die."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, stop being dramatic, Plagg," he said, leaning back and closing his eyes. "You'll get your cheese soon enough."

Adrien's eyes shot open again when Plagg nipped his hand; he swatted at the kwami, annoyed. "Honestly, do you ever think of anything other than cheese?"

The door to Marinette's room lifted up, and Marinette's head appeared, followed by a short body and a plate of food.

"Cheese!" Plagg cried, diving for the platter and stuffing himself with the small piece of Camembart Marinette had managed to procure before starting on the cheese biscuits.

Marinette sat criss-crossed on the floor, looking down at it as if it was interesting. She picked at the fuzz of a knitted rug she'd placed there and didn't speak for a while. Adrien wasn't sure what to say now, either.

"I... I brought you a few croissants," she said finally, snagging them from the platter Plagg was gorging himself on and offering them to Adrien. He took them gratefully, his stomach rumbling when he breathed in the aroma of still-warm croissants.

"Thanks, Marinette," he said, breaking off a piece and popping it in his mouth. He sighed, content as soft bread and butter dissolved on his tongue. She herself nibbled on an eclair but otherwise made no move to eat anything more.

Tikki crawled out from where she'd been perched hiding in Marinette's hair, floating down gently to the floor. She eyed the chocolate chip cookies Marinette had loaded on the plate before taking one.

The four of them ate in silence, Adrien's croissants crumbling in his hands. He licked his fingers clean after he was done and sagged forward before standing.

"I should go," he said hesitantly, and Plagg groaned.

"I'm not leaving," his kwami said.

"Please don't," Marinette said at the same time, her eyes wide and pleading. "Please, Adrien- Chat... I don't want to be alone."

"You're not," he reasoned. "Your family, Alya and Nino..."

"I know," said Marinette. "but none of them are you."

Adrien stopped.

"I-" Marinette began. "I understand if you want to leave, and I won't stop you, but I just- I just-"

He crossed the room in two long strides and wrapped his arms around his friend. "I won't leave if you don't want me to, Mari," he said, resting his chin on her head. She pressed her face into his shoulder, shaking a little.

"It'll be okay," Adrien promised softly. "You'll see."

Marinette sniffed. "I don't deserve you as a friend."

He stiffened. "If anything, Mari, you deserve the entire world."

She laughed a little, pulling back so they could look at each other as the sky outside darkened. "You silly cat," she said. "I can't believe it's you behind that leather suit."

Adrien winked. "C'mon, Princess, don't you think I look great in it?"

He brought his arms up and flexed on purpose, and Marinette squeaked, turning bright red even as she pushed at his chest. "Oh, shut up, kitten."

They were both smiling now, real ones that stretched across time-weathered faces. Adrien wanted to stay in this moment forever, with Marinette sitting on the floor and in a cozy room that felt like home.

Between school and his run-ins with her as Chat Noir, he felt like he'd known Marinette forever. And despite Ladybug wanting to keep their identities as secret as possible, Adrien felt like a huge burden had been lifted off of his shoulders.

Marinette worried at her lip. "I'm glad it's you," she said finally, her voice soft. She swallowed. "I'm so glad it's you."

"I'm glad you know," he replied, reaching for her hand. She didn't pull away as he took it, though she seemed to turn redder than before. Adrien smiled at her for the millionth time as he squeezed her hand, standing.

"I really should go," he said, looking out the window. It had to be seven or eight - he needed to get home. "but I'll see you tomorrow, right? Stuttering, falls, and all, yeah?"

He grinned, making sure she knew he was only teasing.

She laughed, and his heart warmed slightly. "Y-You got it."

"Hey," Adrien said, jerking his head in the direction of her door as he climbed up towards her roof, transformed. "Talk to someone, okay?"

She nodded, watching him go. "I... I will."

"Promise, princess? I want to be paw-sitivitely sure."

Marinette reached behind her, as if she wanted to grab a pillow from her _chaise_ and throw it at him, though she didn't.

"I promise," Marinette said, and with that, Adrien left, nothing more than a shadow in the darkness.

He'd asked Marinette to show up to school, but as Adrien crawled out of bed the next day, he considered not going at all. Every inch of his body was covered in bruises, some of them a purple that reminded him of Papillon, others a mottled yellow-green that hurt like hell.

He managed to drag himself to the shower and stood under the hot water and steam for half and hour, his muscles relaxing as if by magic. Nathalie knocked on the door and told him they'd have to leave in twenty minutes, and Adrien sighed, stepping out reluctantly.

Adrien studied himself in the mirror and recoiled. He looked horrible. There were bags underneath his sunken eyes, a sign of his exhaustion. Bruises were everywhere, color bursting across his chest, though there were a few on his arms and legs.

Nathalie had seen them forming yesterday and clucked her tongue before securing some cream for him; he applied it now, soothing to his burning skin. She hadn't asked how he'd gotten roughed up, and Adrien hoped that she'd assumed he'd gotten caught up with Fabricator. It was true, to say the least.

With his bruises so prominent - and especially with his swollen, aching nose - his photoshoots would definitely be cancelled. There was no way they would have him pose like this, since this was something makeup couldn't completely cover, so he'd have a week at most.

It was more time to look for Ladybug, then, he decided as he pulled on his clothes and slipped out the door, Plagg curling up in his pocket. He'd heard nothing from her or Master Fu - or Tikki. Ladybug's kwami had chosen to stay with Marinette the night before, and Adrien figured if they knew each other, it worked out. And maybe the two of them could find Ladybug when he couldn't.

She was fine. She had to be.

Adrien ran a hand through his hair as he climbed into the car, Nathalie passing him a small breakfast and a bottle of water. He ate without question, scarfing down the food. She then passed him a cup of coffee, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Don't tell your father," Nathalie said, tone emotionless. "but you look like you need it."

Even Nathalie had her moments. He smiled. "Thanks, Nathalie."

She continued on as if it hadn't happened.

"You're free this afternoon," Nathalie told him. "I'll send you a copy of your schedule, but your father has decided this week's photoshoots will be moved."

He nodded tiredly. "Okay."

She continued talking, mostly saying that there was he'd really have to do this week, though his father did expect him to keep his grades up and practice piano and Chinese. Then she went on, explaining that when Adrien decided to go anywhere besides school or home, he'd be accompanied by the Guerrilla since Father didn't think the city was very safe.

When they rounded the corner of College Francoise-Dupont, Adrien practically leapt out of the car and ran up the steps to where his class was gathering. He spotted Rose and Juleka standing together, then more familiar faces - Max, Kim, Nathanael, and Alix all in a clump.

"Hey, dude," Nino said, coming to sling an arm around his shoulder. "You look like crap, man."

"Thanks," he muttered.

"You're okay, though?" Nino asked, brows pinching together. "I didn't see you yesterday - did you hear about Chat Noir and Marinette?"

"Yeah," Adrien said. "Yeah, I got tossed around by, um, Fabricator, and then someone found me, and Father locked me up in my room. Took my phone, too, sorry I couldn't talk."

"Rough, man," Nino said as they walked together to their first class.

"Hey, do you know if Marinette's coming today?" Adrien asked. He winced as they took the stairs. "I wanted to talk to her."

"Yeah, I think so," Nino replied. They settled into their seats, Adrien watching the door like a hawk. Not a moment later, two girls walked in, unusually quiet considering they always seemed to be chatting about one thing or another.

Adrien wanted nothing more to talk to Marinette, to find out if his friend was okay, but he stopped himself from leaping up. His eyes stopped on the untouched coffee cup on the corner of his desk.

"Hey," he said, turning around and passing her the cup. "you look like you need it."

She protested softly, but he caught her eye. Marinette took the cup reluctantly, wrapping her hands around it. "T-thanks, Adrien- oh!" She scrambled for her bag and pulled out a plastic bag with two slightly-flattened croissants. "Here, you should- um, you should have some."

He took them, already pulling out one and beginning to eat, still starving. "Thanks, Marinette."

He ignored the way Nino elbowed him as class started. A few minutes later, Nino slid a piece of torn paper across the desk.

 _Dude, what was that about?_

Adrien decided to play ignorant and wrote a _What?_ in neat handwriting before passing it back. Nino read it and gave him a look.

 _You and Mari. It was like you had a moment or smth._

 _Just helping out a friend._

Nino raised his eyebrows. _A friend?_

Adrien turned red when he read the note. Nino didn't really understand the depth of his feelings when it came to Ladybug, considering it a celebrity crush. It wasn't, of course - it was so much more than that. For the most part, he considered Marinette a pretty good friend. Nothing more.

 _Shut up, Nino._

 _I'm just saying, man._

 _Whatever. What about you and Alya?_

Adrien grinned in victory as Nino reacted in the exact same way he had, but before Nino could respond, the bell rang. Adrien slumped in his seat, sighing. Only seven more hours to go, he reminded himself. Seven more hours, and then he could transform and run to take his mind off things.

The hours passed slowly. Adrien paid no attention to his teachers at all - no one seemed to be able to focus. Whispers drifted through the classroom all day. Notes were passed up and down the rows when the teachers turned their backs, and words were mouthed across the room whenever they could manage it.

"Can we talk?"

Adrien started. The lunch bell had just rung, and Marinette stood in front of his desk, looking hesitant.

"Sure," he agreed immediately, glancing at Nino and Alya.

"What are you waiting for?" Alya said loudly, smacking Nino's arm. "We're going to the park for lunch, remember?"

Nino looked confused. "Since when are we going to the park- I don't- ow!" Alya elbowed him and gave him a pointed look. "Oh, oh, y-yeah, we're going to the park, uh, bye, you two!"

Adrien laughed as Alya dragged Nino off, grateful that she'd sensed he'd wanted to talk to Marinette. Or the other way around, he supposed.

Marinette was scuffing her foot on the floor, quieter than usual. He put a hand on her shoulder.

"Do you, uh, wanna go out for lunch?" he asked. "I know a cafe down the street - we can go there?"

"Oh, oh," Marinette said. "Um, y-yeah, I'd, uh, I'd like that."

They strolled together down the street, a comfortable silence stretching between them. Adrien searched for words he wanted to say but came up with nothing; Marinette didn't seem to want to say anything, either. He wondered if she was disappointed, maybe, about him being Chat Noir.

He decided to hold off on the puns for a while - finding out your friend was a part-time superhero had to be pretty hard, especially after being akumatized.

Yeah, Adrien decided. He would definitely hold off on the puns.

They found a corner in the cafe and talked quietly over restlessly-stirred drinks and half-eaten plates of food.

"So," he started uncertainly, not knowing what Marinette was thinking.

"So," Marinette sighed.

A beat. "Are you still..." he licked his lips. "still glad that I'm... me?"

She looked up, surprised. "Of course I am, you silly kitty."

"Oh," Adrien said dumbly, sipping at his tea.

"Are you still o-okay with me... knowing?"

It was his turn to be surprised. "I told you yesterday," he said. "I trust you."

He hesitated. "You remember." It wasn't a question at all; Marinette nodded.

"I don't... know why, but whatever allowed me to fight back against, um, Papillon also- um, like, I still remember a lot of it." She looked down again, ducking her head; her bangs fell in front of her face like a curtain, blocking it from view. He realized she'd twisted her hair up into a messy bun today instead of her usual pigtails. It was a nice change.

"Your hair looks nice," he offered, and Marinette dropped her fork loudly.

"S-sorry," she giggled nervously, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "and um, thanks. I didn't feel like- like, you know."

"It's okay."

Marinette tugged at a stray strand of hair, and Adrien sat back, relaxing in his chair.

"I h-hurt you," she finally murmured guiltily, looking at the scattered bruises that were exposed since he'd pushed up his jacket sleeves. He frowned.

"I hurt you, too," he said simply. "so I'd say we're pretty even. Don't you think, Princess?"

She sat forward, hunching into herself. "Why do you call me that?"

Adrien blinked. "What?"

"Princess," she said, looking uncomfortable. "Why do you... call me that?"

His lips lifted into a smile against his will. "Because you are one," he answered, spotting the look on her face and trailing off. "I can- I don't have to call you that if it bothers you-"

"No!" Marinette burst out. She gripped at the edge of the table. "N-no. Sorry, it's okay, I just..."

She shrugged.

Another beat. "We'll figure things out, okay?" he said. "we're friends. You're not in this alone."

Marinette took a shuddering breath. "Okay," she said finally. She looked at him. "Thank you, Adrien. I don't... I don't know if I said that yet, but you- you saved me."

"I'd do it again."

She tapped her spoon against the edge of her bowl of soup before stirring it, lifting a little bit to her lips. Marinette studied him for a moment. "Can you meet me tonight?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Got something in mind, Princess?"

The words came out before he could stop them, and Marinette choked, coughing and sputtering as she turned bright red. "Oh, shut up, kitty."

Adrien laughed a little, though he felt himself blush, too. "Okay, okay. You have my number, right?"

He couldn't remember if he'd given it to her or not. In answer, Marinette passed him her phone, and he typed in his name and number, adding a little black cat emoji after his name. She rolled her eyes when she saw it.

"Hey," he said. "it was the best I could do. They don't make actual Chat Noir emojis. Or Ladybug ones - though they should, I'd use them all the time."

"Alya would love those," Marinette remarked, looking amused. "though I'm afraid her texts would become unreadable if that happened. She's a big fan."

He chuckled. "Oh, I know," he reassured her. "I worry about her sometimes, always running after us."

Marinette played with her shirt. "I do, too," she admitted. "but Alya's smart - she knows how to stay out of trouble. For the most part."

Alya was smart; she had a good head on her shoulders. It had kept her from being hurt during the akuma attacks, and between her level-headedness, him, and Ladybug, Alya usually came out of a fight with no wounds and a lot of good footage.

"Have you talked to her yet?"

Marinette seemed to shut down at the question, but she answered it anyway. "Not really - well, not about what... what happened. She told me she wasn't mad, and, like, she... but I can't stop seeing her with that look on her face. What I did to her, what I did to you-"

She buried her face in his hands, and Adrien's stomach twisted. "I'm sorry," he said lamely. "She'll forgive you, you know? Alya's your best friend - I don't think even Papillon can keep you two apart for long."

"I'm scared to face her," Marinette said quietly. "I mean- all those horrible things I said. I didn't... I didn't mean any of them, I swear-"

"I know you didn't," he soothed. "and Alya does, too, but you have to talk to her."

She slumped. "I know," she said miserably. "I just wish I could forget it all."

"Don't say that," Adrien said sharply, but he didn't know if he meant what he'd said. Maybe forgetting all of it was a mercy to all the other akuma victims. Maybe it was a good thing, that they didn't remember the destruction they'd caused or what they'd done or said. Marinette had no such luxury.

"We should get back to class," Marinette said finally, standing up as her chair scraped loudly. She hadn't touched much of her sandwich; Adrien asked a waiter to bring a box so she could bring it with her, worrying she'd find herself hungry later.

"You don't have to go back to school," Adrien said, noting the way her shoulders sagged and the way she caved in on herself, her already small frame getting even more so. "The teachers will understand - everyone will. Don't keep going because you feel like you have to."

Marinette shook her head. "But I have to, Adrien," she blurted out. "I can't just... just not and- and-"

"Go home, Marinette," he insisted, but she shook her head and followed him as they crossed the street back towards Cellege Francoise-Dupont.

"Not a chance."

He frowned but relented; Marinette was determined, and once she made up her mind, there was probably no changing it. He wondered briefly if they'd ever be able to fix her dress, as damaged and torn as it was. Nathalie had told him that Paris' Young Designers had been moved to next week, after Paris had healed a little and could get back on track.

Remnants of Fabricator still hung around with no Ladybug to fix it all. Red threads dangled from the tops of street lamps, signs, and windows. They crisscrossed buildings like clotheslines - he spotted one that did in fact have clothes on it, pointing it out to Marinette, who laughed at the sight.

"It's like a constant reminder," she admitted as they walked back into the school. "I can't stop seeing what I've done everywhere."

"No one blames you for it," Adrien said. "I certainly don't."

"That was still me," argued Marinette. "All of that - that was me."

"It's not your fault."

Marinette whirled around to face him. "Yes, it is!" she cried, and her voice cracked. "It was me - I said those things, I tried to silence those people, I- I-"

He wrapped her in another hug, and she slumped against him.

"Don't blame yourself," he said kindly as they walked into Madame Bustier's class, the teacher not in sight. "It was all Papillon. He took advantage of you."

Adrien slid into his chair, and Marinette continued up, taking her place behind him. He turned so they could talk; they were interrupted as a group of students spilled in, among them Chloé.

Chloé was, without a doubt, his oldest friend. He had fond memories of her, but things had started changing once he'd started taking public school. She was mean and bratty, using her status to childlishly get what she wanted. It was hard, seeing her like this while having known a different side of her.

That side of her still existed somewhere, Adrien knew. He'd seen glimpses of it, but it was buried under the shadows of her father and a lot of other reasons he'd never really thought much about.

Friend or not, Chloé had crossed a line. She'd crossed it a long time ago, he figured; the only problem was that Adrien was only beginning to notice it. She needed to think about people other than herself and open her eyes - she'd never make any friends, otherwise.

So when Chloé attempted to catch his eye and made a beeline towards his desk, he turned away subtly and raised his shoulder in a half-shrug. Chloé knew what that meant, knew that in their world - a world of politics and fancy dinners and dress suits - this meant he didn't want to talk to her.

It was hard watching his friend stalk back to her desk, sending him a look that spoke volumes. But Marinette was his friend, too, he decided. Adrien forced himself to look away, feeling nothing but pity for her - pity that she couldn't understand just how great of a person Marinette was, pity that she didn't know what true friends were, pity that her father had raised her like this.

Finally, Adrien relented and blinked, long and slow. He shifted his hand slightly, pointing at himself and then twisting it slightly in a language they'd made up as innocent kids to talk across long, white-covered banquet tables. _I'm sorry_ , he said.

She glanced at Marinette behind him, and her slight smile turned into a scowl. Blue eyes darkened in a mixture of anger and disgust. _I'm not._

* * *

 **welcome to the aftermath of akumanette, aka angst with plot**

 _achieving elysium_


	7. Chapter 7

**Unsung**  
 _achieving elysium_

 _part ii. world on fire  
chapter seven_

* * *

They were halfway through a lecture on Benjamin Franklin when it happened.

"-used a key and tied it to a kite string," Mme. Bustier explained, pointing at what she'd written on the board. Marinette was trying to pay attention, but it was getting harder and harder with each word that flew out of the teacher's mouth. "When lightning struck the kite, it traveled down the string and into the key."

In front of her, just loud enough so she could hear, Adrien muttered: "What an _electrifying_ discovery."

Marinette made a noise and covered her mouth before she started screaming. Madame Bustier paused, turning at the sound, and she winced as the entire classes' eyes settled on her.

"I- uh, I must've eaten something bad, haha, some mushrooms, yeah, I-"

Mme. Bustier sighed and reached for a paper, scribbling on it and signing it. "Go to the nurse, Marinette," she said kindly, and Marinette bolted out of her chair and grabbed the hall pass from her teacher. "and maybe you should go home. I trust that Mlle. Cesaire can help you with today's lesson."

Alya sent her a concerned look and held up her notes; she'd send pictures tonight, probably. Marinette thought back to Adrien's suggestion and felt sick. She'd invite Alya over after school - to go over notes and then just to talk.

"Yes, Madame," she murmured, trudging out the door with her head low.

Marinette didn't go to the nurse, instead heading straight home. Maman smiled at her when she pushed open the bakery door, kissing her on the cheek and asking after her quietly.

"I'm okay, Maman," she promised. "Today was just hard."

"I love you," Maman said, pausing to squeeze her hand between her own flour-dusted ones. Marinette managed a smile.

"I love you, too," Marinette said before disappearing upstairs, taking the steps two at a time and climbing up to her loft, the door shutting quietly behind her.

Marinette curled up in her bed, clutching a pillow, and breathed heavily. It had suddenly become too much. The eyes, the whispers, the apologies, the looks she'd been given. And Adrien was Chat Noir, Adrien was Chat, her Chat, her partner and her best friend and- and-

"Deep breaths, Marinette," Tikki cried softly into her ear, and Marinette took a long, shuddering breath. "You just need to calm down, okay? Don't think about it, Mari, don't think about it."

She sobbed. "How- how-"

"Marinette, take a deep breath, okay?"

She couldn't. She couldn't do that, and suddenly, her small room was suffocating. Marinette ran down and out of the bakery, pausing only to tell Maman through her tears that yes, she was okay and that she'd be taking a walk.

"Marinette," Tikki begged.

"Not now, Tikki, please," Marinette said. She needed to get out of her home, to walk it out until she could think rationally about her next move. "I'll be okay."

And she would be, eventually. It would take a long time, maybe, but as Paris healed, so would the girl who'd once been Fabricator.

Her feet carried her to a small building that Marinette recognized immediately. She read the hours printed in dark green on the window before knocking carefully. For a few minutes, there was no answer - and then the door swung open as she was about to leave.

"Hello, Marinette," Master Fu. "It's good to see you again."

"Hi," she said back. "Are you... busy with any clients right now?"

He nodded but opened the door wider. "The session is almost over, though, and I'll close afterwards. You can wait in the guest room if you'd like."

"Um, I'm sorry I interrupted, I didn't know," she blathered. "I'll - yeah, I'll wait in the guest room."

Marinette took off her shoes and set them by the door.

They stepped into the hallway and split into different directions from there. Master Fu went back to the room he used for clients, going back to a young man who was waiting patiently. Marinette went the other way and made a beeline for the guest room.

She'd been here often enough to know her way around. Marinette slid the heavy door aside and padded in, her bare feet making barely any sound as she walked on the wooden floors.

She relaxed immediately, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, the air heavy with the pleasant scent of jasmine. She trailed a finger on the walls. Master Fu lived in an old house that leaked calming energy, and Marinette soaked it up like a sponge.

He'd built a sanctuary of sorts. As the Grand Guardian, the keeper and protector of the Miraculouses, being here let her calm down. He was long past the time of fighting, but the quiet abode he lived in was more than enough.

Here, Marinette felt safe and considerably calmer; such was Master Fu's effect on people. Peace settled on her as she dropped onto the mats spread on the ground, and she sighed wearily as she buried her face into her palms.

Marinette played with her singular earring, worrying over it. She had no choice - she needed Chat's help desperately to get it back. Being around him helped a lot, too; here was a person she trusted with her life, a person she'd kind of fallen in love with, someone who had stood by her even though she hadn't realized it.

And then, after she'd retrieved her earring...

Marinette hadn't told anyone what she was planning, not even Tikki, her confidant, closer to her than even Chat or Alya.

After she'd retrieved her earring, taking back the Miraculous-

Master Fu slipped into the room with a tray bearing a steaming pot. He set it on the table and poured two cups; Marinette took one and breathed in its aroma before drinking.

"I was afraid for you," Master Fu said. "Never in the history I have known has a Miraculous-wielder been akumatized or anything similar in nature."

So now she was a screw-up, too.

"I'm the first," Marinette said glumly, "the only one who was Chosen and then akumatized."

"Ah," Master Fu said, holding up a finger, "but you are also the first to remember - and the first to be able to break free, even if for a moment, and resist. That takes great strength, Ladybug."

"Don't call me that," she responded quietly, mulling over his words, though it didn't make her feel much better. "Out of all people, Master Fu, and you chose me."

"Of course," the old man said easily. "Of course I chose you."

The cup shook in her hand.

"But why?" she asked. "Why? I've messed up, and you know it - I almost gave up once, I took off my Miraculous, and- and I've just been akumatized by Papillon! I'm not a hero."

"But you are," Master Fu said, smiling broadly, "you are a hero because you have persevered - because you gave up but took on your responsibilities despite your self-doubt and saved Paris, because you were akumatized but are sitting in front of me now."

She shook her head. "But I don't deserve- you chose me because I helped you once. That doesn't make me- that doesn't mean anything now."

"You showed me you deserved a Miraculous from the very moment we crossed paths," explained Master Fu. "I am able to take the Miraculous from you should I feel you are not fit to be a hero. But it is still yours, Marinette, not because of a kind act in the beginning, but because you have proven time and time again that you are worthy of it."

Marinette gaped at him. She wanted to fight back, to say something, but the words were clogged in her throat. She touched her ear instead, bandaged just like her other injuries, white fabric wound around her arms and torso. "And my earring?"

"I have no doubt you will get it back," Master Fu said patiently, "and I know you have been planning to do so anyway."

"What about... what about the akuma?"

She didn't remember what had happened to it. Master Fu nodded and lifted a jar she hadn't noticed from next to him. In the little glass mason jar, a black shape flitted against the sides, trying to get out but failing. She lifted her hands to her mouth and drew in a sharp breath.

"That's..."

"I have been keeping it until you are able to purify it again," Master Fu explained. "It is safe here, I believe."

Marinette looked at the butterfly in horror.

"And if it escapes?" she asked.

"It won't."

She took a deep breath. She had to have a little trust. She had to believe that things would turn out for the better.

"School's just ended, has it not?" Master Fu asked, a smile playing on his lips. "Your friend Alya is waiting for you, I think."

She blew out air through her nose.

"How do you do that," she muttered. He seemed to know everything, though Marinette had tried testing him again and again – he'd managed every time.

Master Fu chuckled. "You should get going."

"Thank you, Master Fu," Marinette said.

His eyes glimmered. "No," he said. "Thank _you_."

Marinette redid her bun as Master Fu walked her to the door, talking easily. He was like the kind old uncle everyone knew, a little wise and a little crazy but something about him that was just intriguing.

"I'll bring you some croissants before school tomorrow," she said, waving as she left. "I'm sure Papa and Maman won't mind – or, oh, I know, some macarons, the green tea ones?"

"They're all delicious," he said as a farewell. "Tomorrow, then?"

Marinette nodded and smiled, darting away into the street, feeling a hundred times better. Master Fu seemed to know everything; she hummed as she breezed into the bakery, apologizing to Maman about running off but reassuring her that nothing had happened.

"Alya's waiting for you," Maman said. "I'm glad you're alright."

"Thanks, Maman!" Marinette called, already halfway up the stairs. She ran to her room and found Alya already there, making herself home on Marinette's chaise and tapping away on her phone.

"Marinette!" Alya cried, jumping up. She tossed her phone aside, landing on a nearby pillow. "I was worried about you, girl, running off like that – you'd have thought you were on your period or something."

Marinette wrinkled her nose. "I should've used that one," she grumbled. "it would've been more believable – if I keep using the mushroom one, everyone will start thinking I'm actually allergic to them. And I love them, too."

Alya laughed.

"What are we going to do with you, Mari?" she teased, before sobering, the two of them sitting together. "How are you?"

"Honestly?" Marinette asked. "This sucks."

"Yeah."

"Oh, Alya," Marinette said, her only warning before she tackled Alya in a hug. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Alya, you're my best friend and don't you ever think otherwise and–"

"It was my fault, too, I should've–"

"No, it wasn't," Marinette argued fiercely, remembered telling Alya that it had been not even a full day ago. "I was alone and hurt and sad and of course Papillon would… would…"

Alya started sniffling.

"No, no, no," Marinette groaned, grabbing Alya's face in her hands. "Don't cry, oh, God, you're going to make me cry, and then we'll never stop–"

Alya laughed, but the tears had come, and she felt her own eyes prickle in response. They dissolved into sobs. Marinette sobbed against Alya's chest in a way she hadn't with Chat, the two of them holding onto each other like they were lifelines. Apologies were repeated over and over, Marinette's whispered into her best friend's shoulder until her voice was hoarse and her eyes tight from crying so hard.

"I'm sorry," she said one last time, pulling back. The two girls looked at each other with puffy eyes and stained cheeks; Alya gave her a watery smile, and Marinette swallowed, stomach churning with guilt. "…for what I– what I did."

"Oh, girl, you know I don't blame you for any of it."

"That doesn't mean I didn't hurt you."

Alya looked her in the eye, her glasses stained now. "Then I forgive you."

That was all Marinette had wanted to hear, all that she'd needed to hear. She burst into ugly sobs again, Alya rubbing soothing circles into her back. It'd been a long two days; Marinette was exhausted and overwhelmed and a thousand things.

Her phone buzzed on the floor, and Marinette laid on her back while Alya snagged her phone, curious as always. Alya shrieked.

"Is this who I think it is, Marinette Dupain-Cheng? Since when did you get his number?"

Marinette stared dreamily at a nearby poster, a large print-out of the magazine spread in which Adrien had modeled her bowler hat. "If you mean Adrien Agreste, then yeah."

"When?" Alya demanded. "How?"

"Lunch today," Marinette answered. It was getting easier to talk to Adrien, now that she knew. He was still her crush, of course – oh, God, she had a crush on _Chat_ _Noir_ – but he seemed a lot more real, now, somehow.

Like he'd been an untouchable statue on a pedestal, marble turning to flesh and bone, life leaking into his entire being. Approachable, maybe; knowing him as Chat helped with the stuttering and the falling and everything in general.

"And why did you not tell me immediately?" Alya pressed. "Also, he asked if seven tonight is okay, why did he ask if seven tonight is okay?"

Marinette giggled. Oh, this was amusing.

"Can you text him back for me? Tell him it's perfect."

Alya grumbled as she unlocked Marinette's phone. "Don't you mean he's perfect?"

Marinette smiled to herself.

"That, too," she agreed.

"Is that a date, Mari? Did he ask you out on a date, oh my God–"

Marinette blushed furiously, sputtering. "N-no! It's not a date, he just wanted to talk–"

"It is _so_ a date."

Not if said date was going to take place on the rooftop with superhero Chat Noir and telling him that _hey, by the way, I'm Ladybug, sorry about the inconvenience, and would you like a croissant?_

Marinette sat up. "Holy crap," she breathed. "We're meeting tonight. In an hour."

"Breathe, girl."

Marinette pulled at her face, not knowing what to do. "Okay," she said, her voice an octave higher. "Okay. Okay."

"I'll leave you then," Alya said, "or maybe I should stay…?"

"Um," said Marinette. It probably wasn't a good idea for Alya to stay, considering her best friend didn't know that Adrien would be showing up rather unconventionally. "It's… it's okay, Alya – but I promise I'll text you right after. If I'm still functioning."

Alya laughed as she swung Marinette's door open. She held her hand out. "Pinky swear?"

"Double pinky swear," Marinette replied, hooking their pinkies and pressing their thumbs together.

"You better," Alya warned. "You can't just drop the fact that you're going on a date with Adrien and leave me hanging, girl. Guess I'll go do some work on the Ladyblog – everyone's super worried about Ladybug…"

Marinette swallowed uneasily.

"I'm sure she's fine," she dismissed. "She is Ladybug."

Her own words stayed with her even as Alya left. She was Ladybug, as Tikki so often said, with or without the mask. The suit made a difference, though, somehow – Marinette felt different in it, stronger, more confident.

Tikki had also reassured her that while Marinette still thought of herself and Ladybug as separate entities, some of each part of her double life was beginning to leak over. _Your bravery and determination as Ladybug_ , she explained, _and your kindness and compassion as Marinette. You're one and both, not one and the other._

Maybe she'd ask Chat about it.

Tikki was right in some way, though, now that she was thinking about it. Over the course of the past few months, Adrien had begun changing – well, not _changing_ , but Marinette had been discovering new facets of him.

There was a shadow of Chat in his lazy grin, or when he said a snide remark, though those were soft and usually unheard by most of the class, or how he was standing up for things he believed in. And as Chat, he'd become more considerate, thoughtful-minded, that little piece of Adrien really shining through.

"What are you going to do?" Tikki asked.

Marinette lifted her head and blinked. "Huh?"

"A date, remember? With Adrien!"

Marinette rolled her eyes playfully.

"It's not really a date," she muttered, though she really, really wanted it to be one. "And besides, I wouldn't want it to be until… until he knows."

Tikki cocked her head. "Really?"

She sighed.

"It wouldn't be fair, to hide that from him. And I think I'd like that," she said finally, "knowing each other with or without the mask. I kind of don't want to do it…"

"You have to," Tikki said sadly. "You need Chat Noir – Adrien – to help us, and besides, this will only make things easier. You'll really know each other now, and that can give you an advantage?"

"You think so?"

Tikki giggled as there was a knock on her ceiling; Marinette yelped. She'd thought she'd still had some time. "Oh, I know so."

"Hi," Marinette said when she opened the trapdoor that led to the balcony. "Do you mind if we – if we talk outside instead?"

"Oh," Chat said, surprised. "Sure, why not?"

Her balcony was still half-destroyed, her plants on the ground with their pots shattered, the railing bent outwards at a different angle. She and Chat perched on the chair, the only thing that seemed to be intact.

Marinette fiddled with her shirt, not knowing what to say.

"Do you want me to detransform?" Chat asked, but Marinette hesitated. It was stupid, she knew, but it was a lot easier to talk to him in the suit that not, even if she knew the person behind it.

"No."

He looked taken aback but nodded slowly.

"Okay." He leaned forward a little, the last of the sun's rays glimmering in his eyes. "So… you called, Princess?"

She flushed at the name, something he'd given to her on the fly but had now apparently stuck.

"Silly kitty," she returned, tapping the bell on his suit, and he started.

Marinette sighed. "I did… I did want to tell you something."

She got up and began to pace in a circle, trying to figure out how to approach the situation. If only she had her other earring – then, it would be easy. A few words, a flash of light, and he would know.

Then again, if she had her earrings, she wouldn't have needed to do this in the first place.

Adrien watched her pace back and forth, his long tail following her movements lazily, though he didn't look like it. She was a little in love with him, she realized; she was in love with her best friend, and Marinette realized she really wouldn't rather have it any way.

She'd only spurned Chat's advances, after all, because her heart was set on Adrien. Funny thing was, Chat turned out to be Adrien – surprise, surprise. And now that she knew… it didn't make her crush on him diminish in any way.

"Ladybug," she finally blurted, and Chat nearly leapt off the seat at her sudden outburst.

"What about her?"

She wrung her hands together and thought about a million different ways this could go wrong.

"I know… what… I know her. Ladybug."

"I know."

She choked and turned to stare at him, stopping in what had to have been the hundredth lap. "What?"

He scratched the back of his head. "Tikki told that you and Ladybug are really close. Is she like a relative? You guys look really similar, actually."

 _Tikki…_ She couldn't blame her kwami, though. It was a brilliant way to keep Adrien off her track; with her and Ladybug as close, even relatives, it would open up a whole range of possibilities.

She could just leave it at that.

She could just lie to his face and tell him that yes, she and Ladybug were close relatives and that she'd found out by accident, crafting some wild but believable story. And he would trust her for it.

But Marinette was sick of lies and tired of hiding. It was a kind of exhaustion that was more than just from a lack of sleep; it stemmed from hiding secrets from her family, her friends, making up excuses every time she was needed.

"I…"

Marinette turned to Chat and looked him in the eye. She shouldn't be ashamed of herself for being Ladybug – she _was_ Ladybug, Marinette reminded herself, and it was time to start believing it.

So she lifted her chin and set back her shoulders and smiled.

"Marinette?" Chat asked, eyes widening as she shifted into someone who was her but at the same time wasn't, a different part of her that had only just begun to come out at school and at home.

"I'm Ladybug."

* * *

 ***whistles innocently***

 **on that note, come find me on tumblr nanodiemo (my november url! tho i'll be back at achievingelysium soon)**

 **sorry it took me forever to update i've been avoiding it in favor of voltron oops**

 **o yeah so every time i come back to this fic and i read chapter 10 and 11 i just cry im sorry i actually just burst into tears**

 **so like i was reading through and double checking before i posted chapter 7 and i read those two chapters and just**

 _achieving elysium_


	8. Chapter 8

**Unsung**  
 _achieving elysium_

 _part ii. world on fire  
chapter eight_

* * *

Adrien had to catch his breath for a moment.

His heart pounded wildly in his chest; there was a stupid grin on his face as he realized what exactly Marinette had said. He sat there, his mind turning over this new piece of information again and again.

"Chat?" Marinette touched his arm; she searched his face for something, and he wondered if she'd found what she was looking for. She herself looked worried, maybe sad, but definitely not ashamed. Marinette swallowed. "Adrien?"

"It was you?" he breathed when he could finally muster up enough courage to speak. Marinette nodded.

He couldn't hold back. Adrien surged forward, throwing his arms around her as he laughed. Marinette squeaked but returned the embrace, tucking her face into his shoulder as hesitant fingers crept across his back.

"All this time," he said into her hair, "of all the people in Paris, and it was _you._ "

Marinette just nodded, her head bobbing. He could hear her heart beating, steady though slightly faster than normal; she breathed, and he could _feel_ it through the fabric of their shirts as a reminder that they were painfully, beautifully, and utterly human.

"I was so worried," he confessed, and his voice cracked in the middle of it. "You were akumatized, and then... and then- I had to face you. I didn't know if- if-"

A brief flash of light as the transformation released, and Plagg slipped through the air quietly, the suit gone with him.

"Adrien," Marinette said haltingly, pulling away, but he refused to let go just yet. The reminder of facing Fabricator alone - without Ladybug, without _Marinette_ \- at his side was still raw and painful.

Finally, he let go so he could look her in the eye, making sure this moment was real, that _she_ was real, and this was not some faraway dream.

"I thought he'd done something to you," Adrien whispered, and there was no doubt about who he was referring to, "that he'd hurt you or kept you from me somehow."

Marinette smiled guiltily.

"Well," she began, "he kind of did." There was a sad, resigned note in the way she said it; something else simmered under her words.

"Better me than you," she finally said.

"Don't..." Adrien struggled. "Please don't say something like that, Marinette."

She shrugged, not at all sorry.

"It's true," she told him after a pause, "and between me and you, I'd rather it be me."

He gripped her shoulder fiercely. "You don't get to decide that."

Marinette looked up at him through her lashes; she reached up and took his hand, lacing their fingers together.

"I can't lose you," she said plainly.

"You won't."

Fingers brushed against his cheek. "The things I did as Fabricator... when Papillon..." she shook her head. "I never want that to happen to you."

He blinked, long and slow, not daring to breathe. "It shouldn't have happened to you," he ground out. "Not you, _never_ you."

Marinette stared at the ground. "I... I care a lot about you," she said. "You're my best friend - and there are some things that Alya would never understand that you do. I need you, Adrien. Chat. I _need_ you."

Marinette looked at him imploringly, and though he wasn't quite sure he knew what she wanted from him, Adrien nodded.

"Okay," he said softly, and she relaxed. "Okay."

"Thank you," she murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Marinette pursed her lips in thought, something he kind of wished she wouldn't do.

"What... what now?" Adrien said, trying to break the sudden tension that had appeared even now that there were no secrets left between them. Two kids, with no masks to hide behind and no regret to be felt.

Marinette sucked in a breath. "I almost wasn't going to tell you."

"But?"

"-but I need your help."

He frowned. " _My_ help?"

Marinette swatted at his shoulder, but she looked unusually serious. "Yes, kitty," she said sharply, though her face softened a fraction of a second later. "I need your help. I can't... I-"

"My Lady?" he asked quietly; the name seemed to reassure her.

"Do you remember?" she whispered, matching his volume. " _She..._ I can't transform."

The world spun. Adrien sucked in a breath.

"What do you mean, you can't transform?" he demanded harshly, and Marinette shied away from him slightly at the sound of his voice. He backed up immediately, but the momentary fear that had passed over her face disappeared; she smiled at him in reassurance.

Then she picked at her shirt.

"We're different, you and I," she said. "and so are our Miraculouses... yours is your ring."

He looked at the silver band on his finger, so simple in design. When transformed, it _changed_ \- silver turning to black, the surface raising as Chat Noir's signature pawprint appeared on it. But Marinette's had never changed, he noticed, not even now. Her earring was still spotted with five dots, the same transformed or not.

Marinette continued after a short pause. "You only need your ring - your Miraculous - to transform. But for Tikki and I, both earrings need to be present for the transformation to occur. Otherwise, it wouldn't work."

Adrien worked his jaw up and down. A thought occurred to him. "But what about Tikki?"

"Huh?"

He scratched at his face absentmindedly. "If you don't have your Miraculous - Miraculouses? - then why is she still, well, here?" Adrien gestured with a hand in the general direction of where their two kwamis had slipped off to.

Marinette smiled. "Oh, that's easy," she answered. "Kwamis are tied to the Miraculous - and subsequently, their Miraculous-wielders. So even if I lose my Miraculous, Tikki will still be around - unless I've taken them off willingly..."

She trailed off, lost in thought, and a hand drifted towards her bandaged ear. Marinette was obviously remembering something; her eyes were clouded and faraway.

Adrien scooted over so they were closer and bumped her gently with his shoulder. "My Lady? You paw-lright?"

She snapped back to reality, traces of guilt and regret still on her face. Her lips thinned into a tight line.

"Not with those puns, I'm not," she grumbled, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that suggested she was grateful for the familiarity.

He grinned. "Really, though," he said, sobering. "You okay?"

She took a troubled breath. "Just remembering."

Adrien cocked his head to the side. How exactly had Marinette known about the kwamis and their connections to the Miraculouses - not to mention the look she'd had when she'd suggested taking off her earrings _willingly..._

In those words laid a terrible thought. "Marinette?"

"...Yeah?"

"When you talked about... like, if I wanted to take off my Miraculous, if I wanted to _leave_...?"

"Well," she answered. "If you chose to take off your Miraculous, you could leave."

Marinette wrung her hands together, fingers twisting together, and stared down at her lap. He was getting closer, a step further down the path of truth. He suddenly needed to know, suddenly _had_ to. If Marinette had... if she'd...

He changed directions. "...tell me you didn't."

Silence. The whisper of wind, the tapping of a foot against the floor, but her eyes remained lowered and her mouth shut.

Adrien was seized frantically with a feeling of fear, like he'd fallen into cold water and was stuck in the moment before his body would carry him to the surface, those split seconds his instincts screamed that he would drown.

"Tell me you didn't want to leave," he said, and his voice shook a little. "Tell me you never... you never wanted to stop being Ladybug, that you- that you didn't want to leave Paris alone."

 _Tell me,_ his heart said, _that you never wanted to leave_ me.

"I... I can't."

There was a sour taste in his mouth. "Why?"

She turned her eyes skyward, and Adrien watched as she shrugged a little.

"It was a long time ago," she told him finally, and though she wasn't looking at him, he could tell this was the truth. "-in the very beginning."

In the beginning, when they'd faced their first akuma together as a team, having just met. Stoneheart, Paris' first taste of magic and mystery but certainly not the last.

"I failed," she said plainly. "I didn't think I was cut out to be a superhero."

There was such raw pain in Marinette's voice that he quietly reached over and took her hand in his own. She didn't pull away like he'd expected her to - but then again, he'd learned she tended to defy any expectations he had.

"You didn't," he said.

"But I did," she said, "so I..."

Marinette tugged her hand away and brought both up to cover her face in shame. She obviously didn't want to talk about it, or wasn't very comfortable talking about it, so Adrien didn't push.

"It's okay," he murmured. "Whenever you're ready."

He'd wait forever for her if he had to.

"Sorry. I want to tell you, Adrien... I want to tell you _everything_ , but-"

"Marinette," Tikki called, and they both looked in the direction of the kwami. "I hate to interrupt, but we need to hurry."

Marinette paled as her kwami settled on her shoulder; an understanding seemed to pass through the two of them.

"Do you think-"

"Everything will work out, Marinette," Tikki answered. Marinette bit her lip.

"But-"

Tikki cocked her head. "I'm still here."

Marinette nodded, squaring her shoulders and exhaling loudly. She looked at Adrien out of the corner of her eye, a muscle in her jaw jumping.

"Okay," the girl said, her voice strong. "First things first, I need to get my Miraculous back before anyone else is akumatized. And then, well... we'll see what comes next."

He liked seeing her take control. Her blue eyes were calculating and faraway; he could see the gears turning in her mind. She frowned.

"Do you think Chloé would have kept it?"

He thought about it. Adrien wasn't sure, to be honest, but she didn't need to know that.

"Maybe," he answered finally. "I think she would have."

Something told him she had. A gut feeling, an instinct, maybe the part of him that still wanted to be friends with her or that remembered their days spent running through the Agreste mansion.

"There's no way Chloé will let me in," Marinette began, but there was a smirk on her face that suggested she'd gotten in somehow before. He wasn't surprised - she was smart, amazingly so.

"So we sneak in?" he asked.

Marinette groaned. "Honestly, that sounds like the only choice we have."

There was something in her voice that made him wonder if she thought otherwise, but whatever she was thinking, she didn't voice it.

"If we went tomorrow during lunch...," Marinette suggested. "I'd assume Chloé and Mayor Bourgeois go to some restaurant together."

"Right." He nodded. Chloé's dad always found time to spend with his daughter, a cruel mockery of what Adrien had. And yet, the two of them had turned out to be different people because of it. He wasn't sure which of them were better.

"I can transform and get us in from the roofs," he started.

"I'm worried someone will see," Marinette interrupted hesitantly. "and if they question it..."

"Play dress-up?"

Marinette snorted. "As Ladybug? Ha."

He wasn't sure why she found it funny, but they continued brainstorming. He let Marinette run through a few scenarios. The timing was no issue, nor was coming up with a half-baked excuse about why Chat Noir was snooping around in Chloé Bourgeois' room.

The problem was Marinette. As Ladybug, she'd be able to pass, whether the excuse was visiting her "number one fan" or "checking up on security." But in her civilian form, there'd be more than a few questions.

"We'll figure something out," Marinette sighed finally. "It's getting late - you should go, Chat."

"Plagg!" The use of his alter-ego wasn't lost on Adrien, but he stood after his transformation and bowed at the waist. "As you wish, my Lady."

It felt natural, saying that, felt familiar as he stood on the little balcony that had been partly destroyed. Adrien walked over to the hole where a part of the railing had fallen off, when he'd been thrown back by Fabricator.

"I'm not sure I want to leave," he said, looking at the streets, where lights had begun to flicker in glass windows.

"You could come in for a croissant? Maybe a cup of milk for the kitty?" Marinette teased, but her eyes were serious. "I'm sure my parents would be more than happy to serve one of Paris' superheroes."

"Sounds nice, Princess," Adrien said, winking at her and slipping down towards the street. "See you in a minute."

He went to the front of the bakery, where people were still milling around. The bell dinged, and a customer started when he saw Chat Noir leaning on a nearby bike rack, surveying the scene. Warm-colored light spilled through the glass windows, and he could Marinette's parents bustling behind the counter, smiles on their faces.

Adrien made his way in, taking a deep breath as he pulled the double doors open. The aroma of fresh bread was wonderful; the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie closed in an hour, which meant he had plenty of time. His stomach grumbled, and Adrien realized that while he'd eaten dinner before coming here, he was still hungry.

"Ah, Chat Noir!" Monsieur Dupain boomed over the counter. He clapped his large hands together, flour spreading in a cloud around him. "To what do we owe this honor?"

He smiled, flashing his canines. "Even superheroes have to eat, Monsieur. Figured I'd come to the most popular bakery in town."

"Of course, of course," the man said. Madame Dupain-Cheng smiled softly when she spotted him, wiping her hands on her apron and finishing with a customer.

"What do you need, Chat Noir - some bread, perhaps, or a dessert? We've got everything you could possibly imagine!" Monsieur Dupain began to point out the different baked goods - there were so many of them, he realized, so many that Adrien wasn't sure where to begin.

"Uh," he said.

Madame Dupain-Cheng reappeared, swatting her husband's arm gently.

"Go tend to the customers, dear," she said, a white box in her hands. "Here, I think you'll like these."

She held the box out to Adrien, and he immediately went for his pockets, though he had no money on his suit. Or pockets, which would've been helpful.

"I can't take those, Madame," he tried.

"Please do, Chat Noir," she insisted. "As a thank you for what you've done for Paris." _And for us._

He relented. "Thank you, Madame." The box was warm, even through his gloves. "I actually came here to ask... to see Marinette, if she's here? I wanted to make sure everything's alright."

Madame Dupain-Cheng smiled. "Of course," she said graciously. "Thank you for being so... concerned, and I'm sure Marinette will be glad to see you."

"Thanks," he said, inclining his head as she turned and went to the back, where stairs led to the apartment above the bakery. He opened the box while she was gone and found it full of still-warm croissants.

Adrien sighed as he took his first bite. Warm, rich, and buttery, the croissant had been baked perfectly; it was so good he'd finished the first in what felt like less than a minute, and was working on his second when Marinette finally appeared.

She'd taken the time to change into something more comfortable, a large Ladybug hoodie that looked a size or two too big. Oversized clothes were in, though, he remembered, and for good reason, too.

"Hi, Chat Noir," she said when she saw him, grinning widely.

"Marinette," he said through a mouthful of croissant. "These are fantastic."

"No pun to go along with it?" she asked, and Adrien shook his head, too distracted to come up with one. "Did you want that milk after all, you alley cat?"

He chewed and swallowed. "I'm good."

Marinette eyed the people still in the bakery.

"Let's go out for a walk," she suggested, telling her father and sneaking a kiss on his flour-dusted cheek before leading Adrien out into the night.

"So," she said, leaning against the wall, "no one can listen too closely out here."

"Mmmhm."

She rolled her eyes. "You're so easily satisfied, kitty." Marinette tapped his chest with a finger and rolled her eyes again.

"They're so _good_ ," he mumbled. "Can you bring me some tomorrow?"

Marinette just shook her head, but there was a smile on her face. She was beautiful; he'd noticed that before, of course, but had never thought much of it. Golden light framed the soft edges of her face; her eyes were bright and alive.

Quiet, but this quiet was comfortable, familiar.

"You should go."

He nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow, my Lady."

Tomorrow, when he'd finished freaking out about Marinette; tomorrow, when he'd wake up in a new era; tomorrow, when the two of them would get Marinette's Miraculous back.

And after that?

Adrien had no idea what would come next - but whatever came, he and Marinette could take it on together.

* * *

 **The long-awaited chapter eight! I love dramatic, lovestruck reveals as much as the next person, but I really think there is something beautiful in a quiet scene like this, Marinette confessing because she really wants to.**

 _achieving elysium_


	9. Chapter 9

**Unsung**  
 _achieving elysium_

 _part ii. world on fire  
chapter nine_

* * *

" _Mon dieu_ ," Marinette said loudly, stopping in the middle of digging through the drawer of Chloé's bathroom vanity, holding what was obviously a Ladybug-inspired necklace.

"What is it?" her partner called; a moment later, Adrien appeared in the doorway. He looked frazzled. "Did you find it?"

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

"No, it's nothing," she said, putting the necklace back. "I just realized I never texted Alya back last night."

His forehead creased as his brows came together. "What?"

She felt herself turn red as she stared at him. Adrien had long since detransformed, which meant Marinette had split them up so she could focus on finding her earring instead of watching him. Having him around was distracting - and thinking of what Alya had said the evening before didn't help matters.

 _Not a date, not a date,_ Marinette reminded herself. _Not a date._

She wouldn't have wanted it to be, anyway-

"Marinette?"

She blinked and fought the blush that threatened to take over her face, but with Chloé's larger-than-life mirror, it was obvious her efforts weren't working.

"I'm fine," she said, shaking her head and continuing to dig through Chloé's drawer. She could feel his skepticism, but at last, Adrien moved away from the door, though his presence still lingered. "Have you seen anything?"

"Not really," came the answer as she admired a hairpiece, obviously expensive and very, very beautiful. "Her Ladybug collection almost rivals mine, but she's got nothing on me."

Marinette blanked out. Ladybug collection?

"...What?" she managed to get out, though she sounded like she was being strangled.

"Uh, nothing!"

Marinette gave her reflection a weird look but continued going through Chloé's jewelry. Tikki was zipping through a nearby jewelry box, though Marinette was beginning to lose hope. They'd been here for half an hour at the very least, but Chloé's room - well, it was more like an entire apartment in itself - was so big there was no way they'd be able to find it by the time lunch ended.

"I think I found something," Adrien called, and she slammed the drawer closed and went running.

"You found it? Where- what-"

Adrien pressed his back against a jewelry box that was sitting on the table behind him. "There's a little bit of a problem," he said sheepishly, raising one hand to rub at the back of his neck.

Marinette narrowed her eyes. She didn't like this, didn't like the look on his face one bit. The way he'd said it meant it was more than a "little bit of a problem."

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Try me, chaton," she said, and he grimaced, raising his hands in surrender.

"Just... don't freak out," he said.

Marinette sighed. "Not helping, Adrien."

He showed her the jewelry box he'd been hiding behind his back, and her mouth dropped open.

"What?"

Adrien winced, looking at the box, too. "Yeah, I don't know if this is a good thing or not. She's a bit of a superfan, Chloé." He looked a bit red in the face as he said that, but Marinette decided that was something to dwell on later.

"Do you see all those earrings?" Marinette asked, tugging at her hair in panic. "There's no way - those are all Ladybug earrings?"

Adrien looked at the box jam-packed with red-and-black spotted earrings, picking one up and comparing it against her own. He frowned. "And they're pretty close to the real deal, too," he said. "She must've paid a lot for these. Tikki, any ideas?"

Her kwami shook her head. "Sorry," she squeaked. "I can tell the Miraculous is in there, but I can't pinpoint which one it is. The Miraculous might be magical, but I can only really sense them when they're in use and when they're together as a pair, because there's no other need - well, originally, anyway - otherwise."

"Do you think I could... take this one off and try the pair thing, Tikki?"

Her kwami was already shaking her head. "The connection is weaker when there's no wielder, Marinette. It might even make things worse."

"Is there anything we can do?" Adrien asked. "There has to be some way of identifying which one's Ladybug's. I mean, we really need to find it."

Tikki sighed. "There is one way," she said. "The energy in the miracle stones is the same energy we kwami are made of. We should be able to tell which one is which by touch."

She paused. "And the runes, I guess," Tikki said hesitantly. "All miracle stones have runes engraved on them, though you won't be able to see them."

"Of course," Marinette said, throwing her hands up. "Of course it's between holding every earring and looking for runes. And I can't even help. Why would they even be made like that?"

"They do need some kind of anchor," Tikki explained. "The runes help with that, as well as protecting them from being harmed by outside elements. And since the runes can't be seen, they look like normal pieces of jewelry to anyone who might want to use them that aren't worthy of them."

"Fantastic," Marinette grumbled under her breath. "That worked out _great_ with Papillon, huh?"

Adrien looked vaguely impressed.

"I mean," he began, "that's pretty smart. Not very helpful at the moment, but that's really, really smart."

"Thanks!" said Tikki brightly.

"Finding the earring shouldn't be too much of a problem, I guess," Marinette cut in, "but time?"

"Plagg can help," Tikki said matter-of-factly, and the kwami floated out of hiding with a piece of cheese he was too busy devouring. He looked annoyed but came to rest on the edge of the jewelry box anyway, peering into it.

"Wow," Plagg said. "That'd make a lot of Ladybugs."

"Oh, be quiet, you," Tikki said. "And Wayzz can help, too. Between the three of us, it shouldn't take too much time."

"How long is too much time?" she asked nervously even as Tikki and Plagg began to inspect the earrings, setting them aside on the vanity as they went through them. "Because, you know, we don't have a lot of it. And there's a lot of earrings."

Marinette was itching to do something, but there was nothing she could do. She couldn't see the runes. Trying to help would probably do more harm than anything.

Adrien picked up on her restlessness. "Do you think, uh, you can get in contact with Master Fu? He might know something we don't."

She nodded, grateful for the distraction as she found her phone.

It rang three times before he answered. "Hello?"

"Um, are you busy?"

A chuckle. "I always have something to do, young one," he answered. "What do you need?"

"Help," she deadpanned, before rubbing at her temples. "Okay, we're looking for the other earring, but there's a little bit of a problem, and we kind of really, really need some help right now."

A beat of silence as Master Fu contemplated this. "Ah," he said finally, as if this was something to be discussed over macarons and green tea. "I see."

"We're at the Bourgeois hou- uh, mansion," Marinette blurted out. "Please."

"Breaking and entering, I see," Master Fu replied, sounding amused. She made an indignant noise.

"We are not breaking and- it's for the greater good," she squeaked. Marinette turned to the two kwamis, covering the speaker on her phone. "Have you guys found it yet?"

Tikki and Plagg tossed another pair of earrings onto the steadily-growing pile.

"No," they chorused, and Marinette sighed.

"Do not lose hope," Master Fu said. "You will find it. The Miraculous is not so easily lost, especially not to its wielder."

Marinette paused. "Without the riddles, please?"

"Ladybug," he said. "Remember what I have told you."

"Ladybug," she repeated. "Right, I'm Ladybug with or without the mask, even if I still don't really believe that."

"You are connected to your Miraculous, Ladybug," he told her. Marinette frowned, looking at Adrien introspectively. He raised an eyebrow at her but didn't interrupt.

"So I could... wait, what?"

"When you lost your earring, it felt like a part of you had been taken away, did it not? And you still feel as if something is missing, do you not?"

Marinette blanked. "Uh..."

"Think, Ladybug."

She closed her eyes and tried to focus. She skipped over a few memories and tried to think of how she'd felt after the incident, but it was hazy. It was mostly anger - white-hot anger and a touch of devastation. Underneath all of it, though, was a hollow emptiness like he'd said, a feeling that she'd continued to carry even now.

"I... okay," she said.

"Believe in yourself," Master Fu told her. "Kwamis will be able to identify the earring, but none will truly know it as intimately as you, its wearer, do."

Marinette picked up one of the fakes from the pile, cradling it in her palm. He was right - there was something off about it, something that felt wrong even though there really wasn't anything wrong with it. She lifted a hand to her ear and felt her Miraculous thrum in response, as if it was filled with the same energy that Tikki was made of, as if it was real and alive.

"I think I understand," she said. "Thank you."

Master Fu chuckled. "You forget sometimes you do not need my help. You have many answers of your own."

"Master Fu," she said quietly, closing her eyes.

"Ladybug," he said as a farewell.

Marinette took a deep breath and let it out slowly, opening her eyes to look at Adrien.

"Okay," she said. "Here's the plan."

Adrien grinned, a toothy smile that was very much Chat Noir. If there'd been any doubt who he was, it would be all gone now. "Can't wait."

"You're on guard duty," Marinette said, thinking hard. "We'll search for the Miraculous, but it'll take a while. I think. So you get the important job of making sure we're not caught, and if Chloé shows up-"

"Distract her," Adrien said, shooting finger guns and winking at her. She flushed but rolled her eyes. "Got it."

Marinette frowned. "It kind of makes me feel like Chloé is a villain," she admitted quietly. "I mean..."

She lifted her eyes to meet Adrien's, and he shook his head at her, a sad smile on his face. He reached out, and she let him take her hands in his, warm and soft.

She let herself soak in the feeling, let herself have this moment before she slipped her hands away.

"Focus," she said for the both of them. He dipped his head in response and went to stand by the door, though Marinette could feel the distance between them and didn't like it one bit.

"So," Tikki whispered as Marinette balanced a pair of beautifully-crafted earrings in her hands. Her eyes twinkled. "Adrien."

Marinette went bright red, glancing at the boy not even ten feet away from them.

"Tikki, be quiet," she hissed, sneaking a look at him again. "I..."

"You what?" Plagg said, digging out an earring and looking at it with interest. "It's obvious you both like each other."

"Plagg," Tikki scolded.

"No," she protested. "Adrien doesn't like me."

"If Adrien doesn't like you," Plagg said, tossing another earring to the side. "then I don't like Camembart."

Marinette's brows came together.

"What?" she asked a little too loudly.

"What," said Adrien, swiveling around. "Did Plagg say something? If he did, I'm sorry."

"Tell the girl how much I like Camembart," Plagg yowled.

Adrien shrugged when she looked at him.

"Like doesn't even begin to describe it," he explained. "When Plagg stops loving Camembart, the world will end. There's probably a prophecy floating around about it somewhere."

"Oh," Marinette said faintly. She eyed Plagg. "You're... sure?"

"The world hasn't ended, has it?"

Focus. She didn't need to think about this right now, couldn't think about it. It'd do her no good, no matter how much she wanted to steal Plagg away so she could grill him on exactly what he'd meant about any of it.

They picked through more earrings until Marinette's fingers began to cramp like she'd just spent a long night working on her newest project. The jewelry box seemed bottomless, a gaping pit that stretched on and on.

"What if it's not in here?" Marinette moaned.

"It has to be," Tikki insisted. "I can feel it."

She wasn't sure when she'd started crying, only that it'd happened. Ladybug, the famed hero of Paris, always there to save the day; Ladybug, on whose shoulders rested the hopes and fears and lives of too many civilians; Ladybug, who was a fifteen-year old girl who only wanted to make it in the fashion world.

Marinette cried silently as she went through earring after earring, her shoulders and hands shaking as she held them, each one dull and lifeless.

"Marinette," Tikki said softly, sitting in her hands.

Another sob shuddered through her entire frame, rattling the fragile structures built in her. "It's okay," she whispered hoarsely, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm okay."

"Marinette," said another voice, but Adrien's was sharp and full of warning. He scooped up the stray earrings and tucked them into the open drawer of a dresser, shutting it quietly. "You have to hide, hurry."

He ushered her into one of the side rooms that branched off of the bedroom, and Marinette sank to the floor with the jewelry box in her lap, pressing her back against the wall. She could hear distant, muted footsteps over the sound of her heartbeat.

Marinette pulled her knees up and made herself as small as possible, the kwamis settling on her, though they were silent.

"Hey," Adrien murmured lowly, using the pads of his thumbs to wipe at her tears, "don't cry."

She pushed at him. "Go."

The footsteps grew louder, but Adrien crouched in front of her anyway, lifting her chin so he could look her in the eye. He was reassuring, a bright patch of light, salvation in dark waters. Marinette breathed out.

He pressed his lips to her forehead for less than a second, and then he stood and was gone. Marinette's hands shook as she lifted another set of earrings from the box.

" _Adrikins,_ " Chloé squealed from the other room, and Marinette swallowed back the bitter taste in her mouth.

"Hey, Chloé," he said, voice smooth.

" _I knew you'd come around_ ," Chloé crooned. Marinette frowned; she didn't know what the other girl meant by that. " _And you've been waiting for me! Ugh, you're so romantic._ "

Marinette dug through the box, praying that luck would be on her side, like it usually was.

" _Wait, I have to redo my hair_ ," Chloé said.

"Um," said Adrien. Marinette's heart raced in her chest as the familiar sounds of Chloé walking came too close for comfort. In her lap, Tikki and Plagg went faster. "Wait."

His voice was so strong that even she paused for a moment, sweat trickling down the back of her neck as Chloé stopped mere feet away from the still-open door. A few more steps, and they were doomed.

"I... wanted to talk to you," Adrien said, hesitant but unwavering, "about Marinette."

Suddenly, there was warmth under her fingertips, a burst of something that felt _right_. Marinette knew immediately what it was, thrumming in her hands, but she didn't dare to even so much as breathe.

" _Marinette_ ," Chloé said, her tone venomous. " _Marinette, Marinette! You finally see, don't you? She's ruined everything._ "

Everything. The earring slipped between her fingers and rolled into the rectangle of light cut out by the shape of the door. _Everything._

"What are you _talking_ about?"

" _Look at what she's done_ ," Chloé hissed, poison dripping from every word that passed her lips. " _She's a screw-up, Adrien. She doesn't know how to do anything without messing it up._ "

Marinette trembled, moving her hands so they were now clamped over her ears, but Chloé's voice rose and grew louder, higher-pitched in emotion.

" _She ruins everything she touches._ "

"Don't listen to her," Tikki said, her voice as soft as a breath in her right ear. She shook her head.

"Tikki's right for once," Plagg said in her left ear. "Focus. Forget about Chloé, kid, and focus on getting the Miraculous."

 _I can't, I can't, I can't_ , Marinette screamed in her head, though the only thing that escaped past her lips was a heavy exhale.

"C'mon, kid," Plagg said fiercely, and Marinette hiccuped through a breath as she shifted slightly to her right, inching closer to the lone earring glittering faintly in the light.

Adrien hadn't said anything yet, and from her spot against the wall, Marinette could only see their shadows, a deep blue against the floor. Adrien's arms looked like they were crossed.

"How can you say that?" he finally asked.

It wasn't loud or explosive; no, Marinette thought, he wasn't really one to raise his voice. Instead the words were low and dangerous, softly-spoken. For a moment, Marinette was scared, and in the next, she was ashamed of herself for being scared of _him_ of all people.

She inched to the right a little more and shifted her arm outwards towards her earring.

"Chloé," Adrien said, but now he only sounded tired, resigned. Shadowy arms fell to his side. He took a step closer, though Chloé backed up a step, coming dangerously close to where Marinette was hiding. "You're my oldest friend... you know that."

"Of course I am," Chloé said, tone a little haughty, but softness had crept into her words. Marinette stretched her arm further, pausing when her two classmates shifted, heart pounding.

"But Marinette's my friend, too, okay? She... I really do think she's a great person." She closed her eyes. "And I think... I think, if you weren't so focused on yourself, you'd like her, too."

"No," came the protest. "She's ruining our friendship, Adrien. She's destroying it! We never spend time together anymore, we never see each other outside of school, and I-"

Marinette swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat and strained. Her fingers brushed against the edge of the earring, warmth flaring at the touch before disappearing again.

"I don't want to lose you, too."

Too. It was a strong word.

"I know," said Adrien, and Marinette heard him stride forward, their shadows mingling until they became one. "And I know we haven't spent a lot of time together, and that's my fault. But you don't get to use that as an excuse, Chloé. No matter what you want or what you're afraid of, you can't just blame other people, and you can't bully them into getting your way."

Chloé made an angry noise, but she stepped backwards right into Marinette's line of sight. A few more steps, and she'd be caught. She reached further, fingers brushing against the earring, and then she pulled it towards her until it was trapped safely underneath her fingers and hidden in the shadows.

"You're my friend," Adrien said, "and you were there when nobody else was."

"I know."

"Don't make me choose between you. I don't know who I'd choose," he finished, letting out a breath, "but I don't know if you'd like the answer if I did."

A sob, but this one wasn't hers. Chloé took another step back, and for a second, she could see the other girl's face, an expression there she'd never seen before and would never see again. Then Chloé ran in the other direction, past Adrien and gone from her room, leaving only the two kids turned superheroes alone.

Marinette let the earring roll in her hand, leaning back against the wall and breathing hard. Sweat tricked down her neck down her back and made her hair stick to her forehead. Adrien didn't move from his spot, frozen, the two of them only feet away from each other.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. There was nothing to be sorry for, really, but she'd felt the need to apologize suddenly.

Adrien came and held out a hand so he could pull her to her feet. She kept her other hand wrapped tightly around the earring, even though it hurt as it dug into her palm. She didn't dare to put it on.

"What I said," Adrien started, but she shook her head.

"I just want to go home," she murmured. She held the earring close to her chest in a fist above her heart and looked at Plagg, though she kept her face turned in his direction. "Will you... will you take me?"

A moment later, Chat Noir stood in front of her. "Yeah," he said gently, voice a bit hoarse. "Yeah, I will."

* * *

 **Happy holidays, everyone - whichever you celebrate! Here's a little gift.**

 **Thank you all for a great year; thanks for the kind words and for joining me on this journey that will, of course, only continue. (As a present, can we maybe get to 100 reviews by, well, next year?)**

 **Lots of love,**

 _achieving elysium_


	10. Chapter 10

**Unsung**  
 _achieving elysium_

 _part ii. world on fire  
chapter ten_

* * *

The victory felt like an empty one. Marinette wasn't even sure she could call it a victory, though the earring that spun between her fingers seemed to think otherwise.

In the corner of her eye, the clock blinked, numbers flashing across the screen. It was nearing the end of lunchtime; she'd be in trouble if she missed class, though that was an usual occurrence.

She looked at herself in the mirror, frowning at the girl she saw reflected back. The nightmares that haunted her hadn't done her appearance any good, from the dark bags under her eyes to the washed-out, pale skin and blotchy face.

Between her fingers, the earring hummed with energy and warmth. She wanted nothing more than to put it on, to set the world straight again and to get rid of that empty feeling that curled in her stomach, but with no one around to reassure her, doubt was worming its way into her mind again.

" _Marinette, it's almost time to go_ ," Maman called up the stairs, her voice warm. She watched herself smile.

"Coming, Maman," she called back, standing up and banishing the thoughts from her mind. She tucked the earring into her pocket and gently stroked Tikki's head, watching the kwami for a moment. She looked so peaceful in sleep - everyone did - curled up as she was on a scrap piece of fabric that had been from one of her projects.

"Tikki, it's time to go," she said softly, and the kwami blinked at her, blue eyes wide. "You can sleep in my bag."

She nestled both Tikki and the fabric into her bag, smiling down at her kwami before closing the top. Marinette felt her fears wash away slowly and just breathed. A moment.

A moment of peace.

" _Marinette_!"

She raced downstairs, only pausing to hug Maman when she wished Marinette a good afternoon and to kiss Papa on the cheek before running out the door.

She barely made it in time to class, sliding into her seat just as the bell that signified that lunch was over rang. Alya nudged her with an elbow and an exasperated smile before passing her the worksheet.

"Thanks," she whispered.

Alya just hummed in acknowledgment. Marinette had to hide her smile as she bent over the table, bangs falling in her face when she wrote her name in loopy letters at the top of her page.

She didn't feel like herself anymore, most days. Everything had blurred together; the world had seemed too bright one moment and then detached in another.

"Hey," Nino hissed, turning around his seat so he could look at the two of them. "Adrien's being mean. Have you guys gotten to question five yet?"

Alya leaned forward as if to tell him something but then smirked. "Adrien's right. Do your own work, Lahiffe."

In front of Marinette, Adrien turned so he could wink at her, the corner of his lips quirking up just slightly.

Unbidden, a smile formed on her face.

"Nino, Alya, Marinette," Mme. Bustier said. "Are we working on our worksheets or chatting?"

"Of course we're working, Madame," Nino replied, waving his worksheet so the teacher could see his scribbled answers. Marinette glanced at her blank spaces and covered the questions with her arm.

Mme. Bustier sighed but said nothing more. Marinette had to stifle her giggle at her teacher's exasperated look.

It was getting better. Easier. She felt like she'd just broken the surface of the water and was taking one deep breath after another, even though it was hard to stay afloat.

Adrien slipped her a note a second later. _Sorry we missed most of lunch._

Marinette studied the note and hid it under her paper, answering the first two questions distracted but with ease. _It's ok._

Alya raised an eyebrow at her when she caught Marinette tucking the note into the hood of Adrien's jacket and kicking gently at his chair from under the table. She blushed. A week ago, she couldn't even have spoken to Adrien without dying, and yet here they were passing notes.

 _Did you eat?_

Marinette chewed on her lip. _Did_ you _?_

In front of her, Adrien tensed ever-so-slightly as he unfolded the note. He smoothly finished his worksheet and stood up to turn it in, talking to Mme. Bustier about tonight's homework before getting another paper.

As he walked back, he slipped her the note.

 _Nathalie got me lunch. You?_

He frowned lightly at her. Marinette wrote a hesitant _no_ followed by _I wasn't hungry._

 _You need to eat, bug._

Alya stole her paper and wrote an answer in for her, eyes flitting to the note with a knowing look. Marinette snatched back the paper, feeling guilty but thankful that Alya had written in the beginnings of an answer she hadn't understood.

Something clicked, and she filled in the rest. Alya was already getting her homework, and Marinette stood up to follow, dropping the note in front of Adrien as she passed.

 _I'll get something from the bakery when I go home._

"Your homework," Mme. Bustier said. "Please read pages 32-38 in your textbook."

"Okay," she said. "thank you."

"Madmoiselle Dupain-Cheng," Mme. Bustier said quietly before Marinette could leave. "Are you alright?"

She studied her teacher's kind face, though Marinette could still see Madame Bustier as she'd blamed her for her own mess, as she'd put herself between Chloé and Marinette without listening to both sides of the story.

"If you need anything or any help, I'm always here, and you all know I stay after school until seven," Mme. Bustier added. She smiled gently at Marinette, and the memories fled from her mind.

"Thank you, Madame," she murmured, picking at the edge of the homework sheet. She hesitated. "And it's okay. I'm okay."

Mme. Bustier nodded, a clear dismissal. "I'm glad to hear that, Marinette."

Adrien caught her eye as she passed, pressing the folded piece of paper in her palm. Their fingers brushed, and he smiled widely, the happy one she didn't get to see often, though it was her favorite.

With a start, she realized she'd seen him smile like that a lot as Chat Noir.

Alya gave her look that meant she hadn't missed Marinette and Mme. Bustier's little chat - and the rest of the class hadn't either, apparently. She ignored the stares coming from her classmates.

"What was up with that, girl?"

Marinette just gave a little shrug that was more than enough of an answer. She unfolded the note.

The first part he'd obviously written in response to her sentence earlier. _Why don't we go somewhere for the afternoon? I'm free for once._ Then, something scribbled while she'd stayed talking to Mme. Bustier. _Everything ok?_

 _I'd love to_ , she wrote back, wondering if she sounded too excited while Alya scanned the paper from over her shoulder. _She just wanted to check on me, that's all. Nothing to worry about._

She refrained from adding _kitty_ , instead giving it to Adrien.

"Was that a date?" Alya said in her ear, quiet but obviously struggling not to yell in the middle of class. "Did Adrien Agreste just ask you out?"

Marinette squeaked as paper brushed her fingertips, reading his reply so she didn't have to think about it. _Not tired of me yet? Ok, but I'm kinda the mom friend, I'm supposed to be worried._

"Umm, no," she said to Alya. _Never, you dork._

"Uh, _yes_ ," Alya hissed. "It's a free afternoon, and he wants to spend it with you, girl. He's _so_ asking you out."

"He is _not_ ," Marinette said frantically, waving her arms to tell Alya to be quiet, "and please don't announce it to the class."

Alya calmed down marginally, the two of them sitting closer so they could put their heads together and whisper. They shot back and forth between whether or not she and Adrien would be going on a date and _what happened to that date you two went on_ and when they'd be official.

"And since when were you two close?" Alya asked, brow crinkling. Marinette caved inwards a little bit. She'd hoped to avoid the question.

"He was just... really nice after," Marinette struggled, waving her hand in the air, "Fabricator. I don't know about us yet, but he's helped a lot. You all have."

Alya shrugged, shadows in her eyes. "You did the same for me, remember?"

"Of course."

" _So_ ," Alya said, "he likes you."

Marinette scoffed. "Does _not._ "

"Does, too."

"No way."

"Yes way."

"Alya!" she cried quietly, frustrated.

"Marinette!" her best friend mimicked. They stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. A note landed on the desk in front of her.

 _Where to, my Lady?_

It was an innocent enough question; to Alya, it was a cheesy line. Clever.

 _Anywhere_ , she wrote back. Adrien was about to reply when the bell rang. The room immediately burst into chatter, classmates turning in their seats so they could talk to their friends.

"Maybe we should just go to the bakery," Adrien said, spinning around, "unless you don't feel like it." He'd forgotten she'd intended on going home in the first place.

Alya slipped out of her seat so she could talk in loud whispers with Nino.

"You just want croissants," Marinette teased, but she smiled broadly.

Adrien hung his head. "Guilty as charged."

She laughed. "You can have all the croissants you want." She lowered her voice, though it wasn't hard to cover their conversation under the noise. "I'll even save some cheese for Plagg."

"I swear, he likes you better than he likes me."

"What can I say?" she asked, pretending to toss her hair haughtily. "I'm simply the best."

It was a joke, but Adrien's eyes gleamed. He reached for her hand and squeezed. The rest of the day passed like it usually did, with Marinette half-paying attention, half-falling asleep. She didn't mean to, really, but she hadn't been getting much sleep lately, and the dull droning of her teachers' voices was a familiar and comforting background.

Adrien wasn't much better. She watched in amusement as Nino simultaneously tried to keep him awake while taking notes, which meant that by the end of the day, Adrien's arm was covered in ink.

"You look like you're about to drop," Alya said worriedly when the last class had ended, everyone stampeding for the doors. She pulled herself up and yawned.

"That's what you always say," Marinette mumbled.

Alya glanced at Adrien. "Both of you do, actually," she noted.

"Mmm," was Marinette's only response. She hadn't realized how worn out she was, but suddenly even walking out of College Francois-Dupont was very hard.

Nino and Alya exchanged a look that Marinette didn't miss.

Adrien shook his head, running a hand through his hair, seemingly trying to wake himself up. It seemed to work; he looked a lot less tired now that school was out, and he didn't have a photoshoot.

"Why don't we all head to the _boulangerie_?" He suggested. Marinette stared at him. It wasn't fair how good he looked, or how he'd shaken off the sluggishness like it was nothing. "We can all get a bite to eat and hang out."

Nino agreed readily, always up for food, though Alya was slightly less enthusiastic. Marinette supposed this meant that her "date" was ruined, though it hadn't been a date in the first place, and she didn't mind the company.

They walked back to the bakery, joking and jostling each other. It made Marinette feel warm, like she'd just had a big bowl of Maman's silkie chicken soup, the old recipe.

"Marinette!" Papa boomed when she pushed open the door and held it so her friends could trail in. "and you've brought your friends, too."

"Do you need some help?" she asked, slipping behind the counter before he could answer. Being home made her feel a lot better.

"No, no," he laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Your friends are here."

"If you say so," she said, though she boxed and rang up some cookies out of force of habit. Marinette went to the door in the back and waved at Maman, who was helping to roll out some dough.

"Marinette, you're back," Maman said. It had only been a few hours, but Maman's presence washed away what was left of the day's events off of her shoulders.

"I just came to get something to eat," she said. "Alya, Nino, and Adrien are here."

Maman lit up. "You'll have to tell them they're staying for dinner," she said adamantly, and she looked too excited for Marinette to protest. There was no stopping Maman when guests were over, either - she'd learned that lesson a long time ago.

"Okay, Maman." She returned to the front with a dozen croissants and a few chocolate chip cookies to find her friends browsing through the day's batch of pastries. "Sorry I abandoned you."

Nino snorted. "Dude, there's food. We don't care."

Marinette lifted the platter she was holding and smiled. "Sure you don't."

He reached for a croissant, but Marinette twirled out of the way, laughing.

"Come on," she called, bounding up the stairs. Even as clumsy as she was, moving around with a platter of food was something she was used to, so Marinette wasted no time. She balanced it on one hand as she fished out the keys to the apartment, unlocking it and using her foot to open the door.

She led them into the living room and perched on the edge of the couch. Alya came to sit next to her; the boys took the other one.

"So," Marinette said, scrambling to think of something they could do. "Who wants to play Ultimate Mecha Strike III?"

" _No_ ," Alya and Adrien chorused in loud agreement. They looked at each other.

"You, too, Adrien?" her best friend asked.

Adrien snagged a croissant and nodded. "The competition," he explained before stuffing his mouth. Marinette rolled her eyes at him; mid-bite, he smiled guiltily.

Nino looked vaguely confused. "What's so bad about Ultimate Mecha Strike III?"

"Oh, hon," Alya said, shaking her head as she popped a cookie in her mouth. "it's not Ultimate Mecha Strike III that's the problem. It's Marinette."

Her mouth dropped open; Marinette lowered the croissant that had been halfway up. "Al _ya_."

Adrien waggled his fingers and leaned in so he could whisper dramatically. "She'll crush you, man."

Alya broke the cookie in half, joining in. "Obliterate you."

"Going against Marinette is like a _death wish_ ," Adrien said. "You'd be insane to try."

"You might think you're about to win...," Alya said, leaping up with her fists clenched. Marinette smacked her forehead and wondered why they were friends in the first place.

" _Nino_ , don't listen to them," she pleaded.

Adrien got up, too, and finished what Alya was saying. "...but then she'll come back and destroy you."

Marinette hid her face in her hands and groaned. "I can't believe you two."

Nino whistled. "Dude, if you can strike fear into the heart of Adrien Agreste, who's literally played every game in existence, I'd hate to see what you can do to me."

"Oh, come on," she said, reaching for a cookie to slip into her bag for Tikki as they were distracted. "I'm not _that_ good."

"Not that good?" Adrien asked incredulously, sitting down and leaning back in a very Chat Noir-esque way. "You beat me in, like, five minutes flat."

"Don't exaggerate," she scolded, lightly tossing a piece of her cookie at him. He caught it in his mouth and chewed, giving her a cheeky smile. "and Nino, don't listen to them."

"Actually, I just remembered - these croissants are really good - when you played against Max," Nino said. "You were scary good. Like, one second, Max is like going super hardcore, but then you went _bam_ and the king lost his crown."

Marinette crossed her arms.

It turned out that Nino wasn't half-bad at Ultimate Mecha Strike. He and Alya went head-to-head, though they were about the same skill level, so Marinette helped tip the scales. She began to coach Alya quietly, which helped win a game until Adrien decided it hadn't been fair and called a rematch so he could help Nino.

And so began the battle.

Until, of course, Alya suggested they team up.

"Um," Adrien said. "can I team up with Marinette?"

"Dude, seriously?" Nino asked, adjusting his headphones. "Bro, you're going to leave me for Mari? No offense."

"None taken."

"Come on, Nino," Alya said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You don't want to work with me?"

She and Alya grinned at each other as Nino's face turned red. "N- of course I want to work with you, Alya, I just, um, Adrien's my best bud, you know, my bro-"

"Come on, pretty boy," Alya said, leveling a challenging glare against Adrien. "Let's see what you've got."

Adrien passed Marinette a controller. "Oh, you're _on_ ," he said, excitement leaking into his voice. Their hands brushed, and a tingle ran up Marinette's arm as she jerked it away, suddenly aware of how close the two of them were.

He seemed equally embarrassed, rubbing at the back of his neck as he took his own controller. They glanced at each other.

Marinette knew without a doubt that they were both thinking of the incident with _Le Gamer._ It was funny now, she realized, how the two of them had run from _Le Gamer_ together and separated, only to come back and take him on as a team. They'd worked so flawlessly together, even in the slightly terrifying, real-life version of Ultimate Mecha Strike.

 _Le Gamer_ hadn't been easy to beat, but they'd done it. Alya and Nino, in a video game? They didn't stand a chance.

It was to friendly arguing that Papa found them, Marinette continuously running a steady stream of trash talk as she played.

"Ah, if it isn't my favorite girl playing my favorite game," he said, sitting down when Marinette and Adrien made room for him. Without missing a beat, she passed him a controller in time as Papa and Adrien released a series of combos that left Nino and Alya scrambling.

"Good one, Papa!" she cried, and he laughed joyously.

He glanced at the screen and checked the team names. "So I'm now on Team Adrienette, huh?"

"Yes, sir," Adrien said, leaning forwards towards the screen.

Papa raised an eyebrow.

"DJWifi?" he asked, addressing the other team.

"You know Alya," Marinette said, "always jumping on a chance to get that free wifi. And Nino's part is self-explanatory, I think."

"You're almost as good as Marinette," Alya said, adjusting her glasses.

"I have surpassed my master," Marinette joked, and Adrien laughed, even though it cost Team Adrienette a hit. Papa and Adrien made a great team. It took almost nothing to defeat the others, which gave them five victories in total.

"Alright, kids," Papa said, standing up. "I only wanted to come make sure everything's okay up here." He glanced at Marinette. "For the sake of your _maman_ , I'm going to tell you all to finish your homework so I can come back and defeat all of you in Ultimate Mecha Strike, yeah?"

"Four against one?" Alya asked.

Papa just cracked his flour-dusted knuckles threateningly in answer, though the soft smile on his face ruined it.

"Bye, Papa," she called after him as he left the apartment to keep the bakery running. It would stay open for a few hours yet, which was more than enough time to finish their homework for the day.

They went up to Marinette's room and sprawled out on the comfortable rug, playing Jagged Stone as they worked.

"I'll have to invite you all over more," Marinette mused as she finished a math problem.

"Girl, I come to your house, like, every day," Alya commented.

She raised her pencil in protest only to lower it. "You have a point. But I've never gotten homework done so fast!"

It was even harder with the bakery and patrols. She helped Maman and Papa with customers for a little while before taking some time to do homework. Usually, she'd be back to help close up shop. And patrols were almost every night if she could manage it, whether it was alone or with Chat.

"Oh my God," Adrien said quietly, "was that a pun?"

His green eyes gleamed. She only smiled brilliantly at him in response.

Alya flopped onto her back, pulling out her phone as she lounged on Marinette's _chaise._ "Mari-"

She didn't even need to ask. "My desk, the first drawer."

Alya got up so she could steal Marinette's phone charger before tapping away on her phone. She let out a sudden groan, and Marinette jolted, heart racing, but Alya was staring at her screen.

"I haven't seen Ladybug lately," she said, distracted as she replied to a message, "and according to everyone on the Ladyblog, no one else has seen her either."

"Huh," Marinette said, though her insides twisted with guilt. "That's… weird."

Today had been rocky, but after what had happened with Chloé and finding her earring, things had seemed to calm a bit. She'd dug inside of herself and had found a bit of happiness Hawkmoth hadn't taken away from her.

Adrien grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together. She let him.

"What are they saying?" he asked for her, but lowered his voice, breath ghosting across her ear. "Okay?"

Marinette tried to relax her tense muscles.

"Yeah," she breathed. Alya began to read, though Marinette got her own phone out and followed along.

LBCN: **_I hope LB's ok, tbh I'm lowkey worried._**

ChatNoir48: **_LBCN_** **_like i've only seen Chat Noir on patrols too_**

Ladynoir1997: **_ChatNoir1997 yeah but they're not always on patrol together. maybe you missed Ladybug_**

LBCN: **_Ladynoir1997 What about Fabricator tho? _ I didn't see Ladybug in the fight, and Alya's stream only showed Chat Noir..._**

chaton-baton: **_LBCN maybe she got caught up with Fabricator_**

chaton-baton: **_I mean_**

chaton-baton: **_or like what if you guys are freaking out over nothing. maybe Ladybug's on vacation in America or smth_**

hawkmothsucks: **_chaton-baton u have a point i mean they're still ppl they have lives outside of being superheroes_**

ladybug4ever: **_k but y would u go to_** **America** ** _y not, like, Canada_**

Ladynoir1997: **_wherever Ladybug is, I hope she's ok_**

LBCN: **_official_ladybug, if you see this, we're cheering you on ! !_**

BiggestFan: **_LADYBUG I LOVE YOU_**

spots-and-claws: **_whatever's going on, i know LB can work it out honestly she's just so great official_ladybug_**

chatsmeow: **_ok but like? literally unfair? ladybug and chat noir are just? the best? they can do anything_**

superheroes: **_ikr. anyway LB we got ur back we understand if u read this pls remember to take care of urself, u too CN official_ladybug official_chatnoir_**

Alya kept talking, but the screen in front of her had become blurry. Marinette let Adrien pry the phone out of her hand. She wiped her tears on her sleeve and sniffed.

"Are they really..." she whispered, though she couldn't keep going.

"No one blames you," Adrien whispered back as if they were the only two people in the world. In the background, Alya kept reading, her voice getting stronger as she read more and more encouraging comments and well wishes to both Ladybug and Chat Noir. "Fabricator _or_ Ladybug."

She let out a watery laugh. "I can't believe..."

ladynoirismyotp: **_honestly this is so uplifting? i love this community_**

fabulous-ladybug: **_ladynoirismyotp_** **_i think that's why i'm online like all the time i love you guys and i love ladybug and chat noir_**

chattt: **_take all the time u need, official_ladybug - when u come back, paris will welcome u with open arms_**

Adrien nudged her and smiled.

"See, bugaboo? Paris will welcome you back with open arms." She put her head on his shoulder, her fingers finding the earring tucked away in her pocket, warm to the touch.

"Thank you," she whispered to him; to Alya and Nino; to every person who'd said something nice or had hoped she was doing well, even if only Adrien heard her. "Thank you."

From the corners of her mind, an idea formed, small but burning. She took back her phone, wiping her eyes and tugging her hand free from Adrien's grip so she could type.

Marinette logged into the Ladyblog under her Ladybug account, one she used sparingly but with well-meaning. She glanced at Alya, who was distracted - no one would see but Adrien.

There were already 1,786 notifications. It jumped to 3,000 in a minute and kept climbing - replies under her comments and mentions of her in posts.

The Ladyblog was split into two sections; one for Alya's updates, interviews, and videos, and the other for posts and comment threads. It was the latter that Marinette went to immediately, opening a new thread, her fingers hovering over the screen.

 **An Update** _,_ she began.

 _To all of my ladybugs and kittens:_

 _I'm sure you've all noticed that I've been MIA for a while, particularly during the incident with Fabricator, and I'm sure you've also noticed my absence and the lack of my Miraculous Cure to help the city._

Her hands shook, but she kept going, Adrien reading over her shoulder.

 _I'm sorry I wasn't there in Paris' time of need. I wish I had been._

 _Papillon is a threat no one should take lightly, as I have learned. He preys on insecurity, on fear, on sadness, on anger. I'm going to be honest: lately, I've been struggling with a lot of personal problems. I'm sure you know as well as I do that life is hard, that even superheroes are human, that those who shine the brightest have the darkest shadows._

 _But I want to remind you to hold on to that light. I want you to remember that you are loved, that you are worth it, and that_ I _believe in you. There will always be someone who cares. You just need to open your eyes._

 _Do not let Papillon win. Every smile, every triumph, every laugh is something to be treasured. Every challenge and loss can be overcome. I will never let myself forget that again._

 _One last thing._

 _Thank you. Thank you for your kind words and your comments; they have given me hope and joy. I cried as I read every one._

 _As one commenter said, "Ladybug, Paris will welcome you back with open arms."_

 _To those who may be in a similar situation as I am: I will always be here for you, whether you see me or not. And I, too, will be waiting with open arms._

 _Much love,_

 _Ladybug._

* * *

 **From basically Chapter Ten and on, I pretty much cried at some point during the following chapters. For this one, it was the last scene where Marinette's writing her open letter. For the others... well.**

 **Anyway. Happy 2017!**

 **A question: so I'm almost finished with writing this fic - I only have one or two chapters left, which brings it to about 15 chapters total. I wanted to ask if any of you would be interested in doing an Unsung Q &A when it's over - so you'd send in questions to my tumblr (which is now chasejackson)/through review, and I'll answer them?**

 **I dunno. Maybe no one would be interested in that, or maybe y'all will. Thoughts?**

 _achieving elysium_


	11. Chapter 11

**Unsung**  
 _achieving elysium_

 _part iii. tell me how the world burns  
chapter eleven_

* * *

The news traveled around the school like wildfire. Between the Ladyblog and Alya practically announcing it to the world, _everyone_ knew about Ladybug's open letter.

"I can't believe it," Alya gushed as Marinette steered her through the school. "Did you see Ladybug's post?"

Marinette led her up the stairs.

"Yes, Alya," she said patiently. "You were at my place yesterday when Ladybug posted it. We freaked out over it together."

"I _know,_ I just, ahh!"

Alya's arms flew like pinwheels in her excitement. She spun in a circle with her arms outstretched. "She's so _brave_ and kind and good and I lo-"

"Yes, you love Ladybug, we know, you love Ladybug _so_ much, she's the light of your life, you love her so much, you just love Ladybug, we _know_ , you love Ladybug, you fucking love Ladybug, okay, we know, we get it, _you love Ladybug._ We get it," Marinette said in one breath.

Alya blinked. "I don't sound like that," she protested.

"Really?" Nino asked, coming up from behind them and slinging an arm around Alya's shoulders. They were so cute, the two of them, and they didn't even realize it. "That impression was spot on, Mari."

They fist-bumped as Alya rolled her eyes.

"But _still_ ," she pressed.

"I have to agree with you, Alya," Adrien said. "That letter was pretty great."

His fingers brushed against the inside of her arm before drawing away. He smiled at them.

"See? Adrien appreciates it."

"It's not that I don't," Marinette began, though it was weird to say considering she'd written that letter, "but Alya, you've been talking to me about it for, like, the past ten hours."

Adrien raised an eyebrow in question.

"After you left," she explained. "Alya just kept texting me. We probably stayed up until two or three before she finally left me alone so we could sleep. And then the minute she gets up, my phone starts buzzing."

Alya whirled around and walked backwards, pointing a finger in Marinette's face.

"Hey," she said warningly. "I got you to school on time, didn't I?"

"Thanks for that."

"I just... _Ladybug._ "

Adrien looked at Alya. "I know, right?"

Marinette heaved a long sigh. "Personally, I like Chat Noir better."

Though she hadn't said it very loudly, Adrien, who'd been walking next to her, had heard her words clearly. He blushed and turned even redder when Marinette smiled genuinely at him.

 _I mean it,_ she mouthed.

Even Chloé had something to say about it. It was ironic, considering how much she hated Marinette but loved Ladybug. Painfully, disturbingly ironic.

The four friends finally made it to the school library, where they found a desk. It wasn't long before someone came to talk to Alya, though, the knowledge that she ran the Ladyblog sparking conversation.

Marinette let the sound of chatter wash over her as she read a book she'd bought for herself a few weeks ago. She scribbled some notes in the margins; in the seat next to her, Adrien was writing lines in Chinese, though their eyes occasionally drifted to each other.

 _Take it slow,_ Marinette reminded herself. She liked Adrien. Well, okay, like was probably an understatement.

But they were still adjusting. She'd look at Adrien and wonder how she'd never noticed how he was Chat, but in the next minute would find herself overwhelmed by it. And though she'd written that letter on the Ladyblog, the superheroine Ladybug had yet to make an appearance on the rooftops of Paris.

Marinette set down her book and leaned in, making a split second decision. "Samedi night."

Adrien cocked his head and blinked, long and slow. "Samedi night? Are you asking me out, bugaboo?"

She shoved at his arm.

"Seriously, kitty," she said, but she giggled in spite of herself. "Really, though. Samedi night."

He frowned lightly, confused but willing to go along. "Okay."

Marinette squeezed his shoulder and returned to her book like nothing had ever happened - until someone slammed it shut before she could continue reading.

"Marinette," said Chloé, her blue eyes icy. Sabrina was nowhere in sight. "Can we... talk?"

She trembled in her seat. Chloé made her feel insecure; her presence dragged up memories and tore at the scars that had only just begun to scab over.

Adrien stood up; when they noticed what was happening, so did Alya and Nino.

"Hey, leave her _alone_ , Chloé," Alya said sharply, and underneath her anger was fear.

But Chloé ignored her, staring down at Marinette. "Well?"

She took a deep breath. _I want you to remember that you are loved, that you are worth it, and that_ I _believe in you. There will always be someone who cares. You just need to open your eyes._

Adrien stepped forward, cutting in protectively between the two girls.

"Chloé," he said in a low voice so only the three of them could hear. "do _not_ make me choose."

Had that only been yesterday?

Marinette took a deep breath and stood up, meeting Chloé's eyes.

"It's okay," she said to herself. Then she said it louder for her friends. "It's okay, guys."

Then she swept out an arm. "Lead the way, Chloé."

As they found a corner of the library that was quiet, Marinette let herself think. She wasn't sure what Chloé wanted. And it probably wasn't a good idea to "talk" with her, but Marinette needed to face her at some point.

"Look, I don't like you," Chloé said the moment they were out of earshot, spinning around so they could face each other.

Marinette's face burned, but she lifted her chin and crossed her arms. "Good," she said. "I don't like you either."

"But Adrien is _my_ best friend."

Marinette said nothing, though underneath her skin, a mix of anger and spite bubbled. She suddenly wanted to spit in Chloé's face. But he wasn't hers, not really.

Chloé sighed.

"I don't think you deserve him. I don't think anyone deserves him." Marinette sat down in a nearby chair, Chloé copying her without thinking. "But he means a lot to me, and you - _you_ \- mean a lot to him. I don't get it. _I don't get it._ "

The anger burst free like the floodgates had opened, water pouring out. "I don't get why he's friends with you, either," she said, shooting upwards. "I don't deserve Adrien and I know that, but neither do you!"

"Will you shut up," Chloé snapped. She took a deep breath. "What I'm saying is I think... I think we should be friends."

" _What_ ," Marinette said.

"Don't make me repeat myself," Chloé shot back. "Not friends, but..."

Marinette counted to ten and then backwards in her head until she felt calm enough to reply. Her mind frantically ran over the words, trying to figure out what was happening and why. She knew what Adrien would want her to do, what Maman and Papa would say, what Tikki would whisper quietly in her ear.

"No," she said finally.

Chloé stopped. "No?"

Marinette closed her eyes. "Chloé," she said. "What you've done to other people, what you did to _me_... I won't ever forget that. That's not something I can forget, something I can just- drop. I will never look at you and not remember what you did. What I did. Who I became."

 _Take care of yourself first_ , a commenter had said.

"Being friends with you won't fix anything. And I don't want to be friends with you for Adrien. I'd want to be friends with you because I genuinely like you, or because I respect you as a person. And right now, I am neither of those.

"But I'm also tired of being shut down. I'm so tired of feeling like I'm struggling to just get up every day. And I'm tired of seeing you as an enemy, because in the long run, you aren't."

Chloé pursed her lips.

"Then don't make me one." She held out her hand. "A truce."

Marinette raised an eyebrow. "A truce?"

"Ladybug said something yesterday," she said, "and of course, I read it, because I'm Ladybug's biggest fan. She said that we should stand against Papillon... and that all that negative stuff doesn't help."

It wasn't exactly what she'd said, but it was close enough.

"So... a truce. If you don't want to be friends, fine. I don't really, either. But for Adrien and for Ladybug, because she's my other best friend and, like, I want to help her, then we can try not to hate each other _all_ the time."

"That's going to be hard."

"Ugh, it makes my skin crawl just thinking about it," Chloé said. Marinette rolled her eyes but silently agreed.

"Maybe we can hate each other, like, sometimes," the other girl finished.

Marinette sighed. She didn't want the anger, the fear, the hate. And though the thought of Chloé being a not-friend wasn't her favorite one, it wasn't the worst.

She took Chloé's hand. "This isn't me forgiving you. This isn't friendship."

She needed to say it - for herself and Chloé both. Because it wasn't, because it still hurt too much, because red threads still looped around lampposts and signs, because the ambulance sirens still rang in the streets of Paris.

Chloé smiled, a rare sight. "I never wanted it to be."

They stood there for a second longer before Marinette dropped Chloé's hand and turned away, her heart feeling lighter. There were worse things that could've happened, and there were worse people to face. She was glad she'd no longer have to worry too much about Chloé.

"Hey," said Adrien when she reappeared and sat down next to him. "What did Chloé want?"

Alya leaned in, putting her phone down on the table. Marinette was suddenly jarred by the absence of the Ladybug charm that was usually on her friend's phone and silently promised to make up for it.

"Yeah, what did Queen Bee want from you?" Nino prodded.

Marinette worked her jaw. "She, um, she actually wanted..." She couldn't even say it, "to be, uh, um, friends."

"Whaaaa," said Nino. " _Bro_."

"She what?" shrieked Alya. "Girl, _please_ tell me you didn't."

Adrien was the only one who stayed quiet. He knew why Chloé had asked - in fact, he had been one of the reasons for it.

"Well?" Alya demanded when she made no move to answer.

Marinette continued. "I said no."

She took Adrien's hand under the table and rubbed her thumb over his knuckles.

"Booyah," Nino cried.

"No?" Adrien asked quietly, another question shining in his eyes.

She held up a finger. "But I told her... well, in the end, we- we made a truce," She closed her eyes, still not fully understanding the gravity of what she'd done, "because we have enough enemies out there. I don't need another."

No one said anything, but they all knew she was talking about Papillon. Adrien smiled at her, his eyes warm, something close to pride shining in them.

Maybe one day, she told herself. Maybe one day she'd be able to _really_ be friends with Chloé, to love her like a sister. It was a strange thought.

Alya laughed, though she didn't seem to find anything very funny.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, everyone," she said, sweeping an arm out dramatically as if presenting her to the others. "What did we even do to deserve you as a friend?"

Adrien glanced over. "The world may never know."

Marinette smiled at them. "What did I do to deserve _you_?"

School would be out soon, their last class a study hall. Not that most students spent it actually studying, though Marinette probably should've taken the chance to do the weekend's homework - and then spend Saturday and Sunday free from school responsibilities.

The thought was so tempting she put her book away and pulled out her textbooks and worksheets alongside a beat-up stylus. There wasn't nearly enough time to get everything done, but she'd at least get a head start.

"Dude," Nino said, pulling his headphones back down to rest around his neck, obviously about to listen to more music. "Are you actually doing homework right now?"

Marinette made a face. "Maybe."

Adrien wrote a last line in Chinese and snapped his workbook shut, Marinette only catching a glimpse of the characters he'd written.

"That's a good idea," he said, getting his own work out so they could put their heads together.

"You know me," she said, pouring over her history textbook's chapter on Ancient Greece, "queen of good ideas."

"Don't I know it," Adrien said under his breath.

"But do you know the difference between Doric and Corinthian columns?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. She'd been obsessed with mythology and other cultures as a kid - Greek had always been her favorite. Something about the Greek gods had drawn her in, and then she'd ended up learning about other things, like the equally-interesting architecture.

"Um," Adrien said. Marinette skimmed the rest of the chapter, but it was hard to concentrate with him next to her, muttering equations under his breath. Really, really hard.

Marinette did end up getting two classes' worth of work done before school let out, though, which she counted as a victory. She packed up her things and walked with her friends out to the street before they parted ways. Adrien said a quiet apology - though she'd told him he didn't need to - before climbing into the limo. While he'd been free yesterday, today was jam-packed with activities, from fencing to piano. She hoped he'd be okay with all the work, though he was probably used to it.

Marinette kept her head down as she walked the short distance back home. Red string curled around a set of outside dining tables and still hung from the bakery, lines of red decorating the sign.

She dropped off her bag in the apartment before darting back downstairs and tying an apron around her waist. The customers smiled when she joined her parents.

"I can take care of the front, Maman," Marinette offered. "I know someone ordered that cake today - you should probably go help Papa."

Maman smiled. "Thank you, Marinette," she said, turning to the customer she was helping. "Have a great day!"

Marinette took over manning the front and let her mind be soothed by the familiar work. She answered questions, rang up bakery items, and called out her greetings to the regulars.

Mme. Halle, who came in every few days to buy a loaf of bread and some cookies, smiled warmly when she came to check out. "It's good to see you, Marinette."

She grinned back. "You, too, Madame," she replied, putting the cookies in a box and the bread in another one. "Anything else?"

Mme. Halle usually didn't buy anything else, though Marinette always asked out of courtesy. But today, she paused while rummaging in her purse to pay. "What's your favorite pastry?"

"Hmm?" she asked, blinking. "Oh, mine? Um, I really like the eclairs, but if you want a real treat, you should get a slice of Papa's coffee cake. There's also the red bean sesame balls, if you'd like to try something a little different."

"Well," said Mme. Halle. "if you like the coffee cake so much, I suppose I shall get two slices, dear."

Marinette boxed them individually. "You won't regret it," she promised. Papa's cake was the best; she loved helping him make it and breathing in the rich aroma of coffee and sugar.

"Thank you, Marinette," Mme. Halle told her as she handed over a few crisp bills. Marinette returned the change and a receipt and told her to have a good day.

Mme. Halle took one of the boxed slices of cake she'd bought and set it on the counter, resting her hand on it. Her blue nails shone in the warm light.

"One for me, one for you," she said. "You bring warmth to this bakery, Marinette."

"Oh, Madame," she said, pushing the box back across the counter. "I can't take this."

"You should."

"Really," Marinette said. "You're really too kind, Madame, but there's plenty of cake upstairs still waiting to be eaten, and..."

"I insist," Mme. Halle said, and Marinette quailed under her look and the line of waiting customers.

She bowed her head. "Thank you, Madame."

They smiled at each other, and Marinette took the box, setting it down under the counter. She'd eat it later, or maybe she'd save it for her parents or one of her friends. They'd like that.

"Are _you_ Marinette?" said the next customer, leaning against the glass case of pastries and eyeing her with a predatory look she didn't like. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, right?"

She smiled politely, mentally taking a deep breath.

"Can I help you, sir?"

The man, perhaps a student from one of the universities, was someone she'd never seen around before.

"I think you can."

He pestered her about the different kinds of pastries, asking about the cakes and cookies and pies until Marinette's head was spinning. Then he saw the Chinese pastries Maman made and frowned. "What are these?"

"They're our Chinese pastries, sir," Marinette said through gritted teeth, already on her last nerve. She took a deep breath. "We like to offer a wide variety on our menu."

"What are you?"

She hated the question. Hated how it made her feel, how completely insensitive and _rude_ it was. "I'm sorry?"

He smirked at her, sliding a jar of orange marmalade across the counter as well as a box of lemon and cranberry poppyseed muffins.

"Are you Chinese?" he asked.

She took a deep breath but knew that being anything less than professional and polite would cost her.

"I'm sorry, but it's none of your business," she said, though her parentage was common knowledge to anyone who knew the Dupain-Chengs. "Is this all you'd like today, sir?"

"Actually, can I get your number?"

She closed her eyes and instead took one of the business cards from under the counter, slipping it into his bag.

"Our hours are from seven in the morning to eight in the evening during weekdays and nine to three during the weekends. If you'd like to reach us or place an order, please call this number."

She didn't like the look on his face. It made her uneasy, like she had no privacy, his eyes seeing straight through her.

But he made no move to do anything other than smile wanly at her.

"I'll be sure to make a call."

She smiled back, though it made her feel disgusted. "Have a good day."

She took care of a few more people before she had to excuse herself, telling Maman she'd like to get some homework done before the dinner. Maman suspected nothing as Marinette raced upstairs, her skin crawling.

She had to scrub at her hands and splash her face with cold water twice before she could calm down. When she wandered out of the bathroom and back to the living room, Maman had come upstairs, holding the store phone in her hand.

"Someone called asking for you," she said, passing the phone to Marinette. "I guess they didn't know your number."

"Oh," she said, "thank you, Maman."

Maman disappeared and left, leaving Marinette alone. She looked at the phone, wondering why anyone would call the bakery, and lifted it to her ear.

"Hello?"

" _Fabricator_."

Marinette's legs gave out underneath her, and she slipped to the ground, breathing hard.

"I'm Marinette," she said firmly.

" _You destroyed my home,_ " the voice said, and she suddenly recognized the person - the customer who'd been at the counter not even ten minutes ago. " _You don't belong here, freak._ "

"Paris is my _home_ ," she said, but her voice shook. Being biracial wasn't easy; Marinette had always felt split over her two backgrounds, like she didn't quite belong to either. "I have every right to be here."

Her breaths came louder and faster as he ranted, his words swirling in Marinette's head. She didn't belong. She'd been Akumatized, and it was proof that she should leave her home. Paris wasn't her home; if it was, she'd destroyed it. On and on, until Marinette was shaking, every word a claw pressing down on the barriers of her mind.

"Leave me alone," she spat. "You don't know anything about me."

" _I know enough._ "

Marinette ended the call and threw the phone across the room, watching it land as she breathed heavily.

"Marinette?" Tikki phased through the side of her bag and looked up at her. She looked like she'd just woken up. "Are you alright?"

She heaved a breath. "Fine."

Marinette counted to ten and then back down to one, trying to steady her breathing as Tikki hovered around her.

"No, you're not," the kwami said gently. "What's wrong? What happened?"

" _Nothing_ ," Marinette said, standing up.

"You're crying," Tikki observed, and she wiped at her tears with the back of her hand angrily, storming upstairs. Tikki didn't leave her alone, continuing to ask. All she wanted to do was curl up and cry, the storm of anger and guilt that had almost calmed stirring again.

"Will you at least talk to someone about it? Adrien?"

"No," she sniffled. "Adrien doesn't need to know."

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, a familiar jingle ringing in the air. Marinette went to dismiss it but hesitated on seeing the name _Master Fu._ "H-hello?"

" _Ladybug_ ," Master Fu said. " _I have urgent news._ "

Marinette shoved away her emotions, locking them tightly into a box in the back of her mind. She had to focus. She was still Ladybug, still had a duty to do.

"What is it?"

" _The akuma... your akuma has escaped_."

Marinette whimpered, the noise pathetic. She shouldn't be as afraid as it was. "What?"

" _Be careful, Ladybug. It will come after you._ "

The call ended as suddenly as it had come. Marinette scrambled backwards in a panic, her hands shaking.

"No, no, no, no, _no,_ " she panted. "It's coming, it's coming for _me_ , Tikki."

 _Her fault, her fault._

A dark shape flitted through the window, and Marinette froze, her eyes wide. The dark purple-and-black butterfly drew closer, and her mouth opened in a silent scream as she leapt into action, trying to get further from it.

It slipped into her shoe, and in the distance, she could hear Papillon's voice, distorted and echo-y. _Hello, my dear Fabricator._

"No," Marinette said. "No, you lied to me, _you_ are my enemy, you-"

She tore off her shoe and threw it. The akuma went for her other shoe, and she took that off, watching in horror as it came back again and again. She tore off the bracelet she'd put on this morning. Out came the hairties that had kept her hair in pigtails.

She raced up the stairs towards the roof, pulling the door shut after her as she found her phone, frantically dialing a number she now knew by heart.

He picked up after the fourth call.

" _Marinette, sorry, I had to finish the photoshoot._ " There was talking in the background. Adrien sighed. " _I'm sorry, bug, I have to go_ -"

She sobbed into the phone.

"It's here, it's here," she gasped, "please, Adrien, it escaped-"

" _Marinette? Marinette, you need to take a deep breath-_ "

She tossed her bag to the side, Tikki already floating beside her. "Marinette, you need to calm down."

But Marinette couldn't. Seeing the akuma sent her into a full-blown panic. She screamed again when it landed on her shoulder, dropping her phone and waving her arms to get it off.

"Go away!" she shouted. "Leave me alone, Papillon!"

"The earring," Tikki said in her ear, "hurry, Marinette."

"No," she said. "No. I can't."

Tikki hovered in front of her face, and Marinette forced herself to take a deep breath even though she was shaking and sweating.

"Ladybug," she said, "you _must._ "

"I'm scared, Tikki, I'm so scared."

"I know you are," Tikki said, "but I also know that you're brave. I know that you're kind. I know that you have done things no one else in the world could ever even imagine doing. You can do this."

She pressed Marinette's other earring into her hand, and Marinette stared at it like she'd never seen it before. Eyes trained on Tikki, who was both patient and encouraging, she fit it into her ear. Some of the cold washed away, chased out by warmth. The world righted itself, and the akuma faltered in mid-air.

 _Papillon is a threat no one should take lightly, as I have learned. He preys on insecurity, on fear, on sadness, on anger... Do not let Papillon win._

As if she knew what Marinette was thinking, Tikki said: "Don't let him win, Ladybug."

Ladybug, not Fabricator. _Ladybug._ She'd always been Ladybug; she was Ladybug before she was Fabricator. A hero before she was a villain – no, not even that – a victim.

"Tikki," she began slowly. " _Spots on._ "

Her yo-yo was nothing more than a blur as she caught the akuma as it raced in her direction, its flight dipping as if it was confused.

" _Je t'ai eu_ ," she whispered, releasing the purified butterfly a moment later. The white thing looked like a figment of hope, a piece of freedom. "Bye-bye, little butterfly."

* * *

 **祝你门新年好！恭喜发财！Since I can't send out red envelopes to all of you, I thought it'd be nice to update for the new year!**

 **This is quite an appropriate chapter, I think - please remember this year to think about what you say to other people and how much of an impact you can have. Please remember today is not just a fun day, that today marks a holiday for many of us who are spending time with (or without) our families. For people like Marinette, for people like _me_ , please remember that we belong here. We do, I promise. **

**I've decided to go ahead and do the Unsung Q &A, so if you have any questions about anything, drop them in a review, and when this fic is finished, I'll answer them!**

 _achieving elysium_


	12. Chapter 12

**Unsung**  
 _achieving elysium_

 _part iii. watch how the world burns  
_ _chapter twelve_

* * *

Adrien didn't know how he'd gotten out of his lessons, but it didn't matter. What mattered was getting to the nearest alley and transforming, giving Plagg no chance to protest before he was shooting up on the roofs, heading straight for Marinette's house.

"Hold on," he murmured. "Hold on, Marinette."

Her phone call had been a mess. He'd hopped into the limo only to be handed his phone by Nathalie, who told him Marinette had already called three times. He'd answered the fourth as they'd pulled away.

He didn't know what was happening, and that was what made it worse. Marinette had been _crying_ over the phone, saying that something had escaped, begging him to do something he knew nothing about.

And then there'd been a scream and the sound of static.

The fresh memory gave him a surge of energy, and Adrien pushed himself faster, the setting sun beating down on his back. People were beginning to notice his frantic running, but he paid no mind to them.

When the Dupain-Cheng boulangerie came into view, Adrien thought his heart was close to bursting. In the distance, he could see a figure standing on the rooftop balcony. _Marinette_.

"Marinette!" he yelled, throwing caution to the wind. She was nothing more than a silhouette, but he skidded to a stop a few roofs away when he caught the flash of red and the sight of her hair, let down around her shoulders in a painfully familiar way.

" _Fabricator_."

He extended his baton, pain flaring in his chest. He couldn't face her this time, wouldn't be able to. Not anymore, knowing that she was Ladybug, that she was his partner.

But he had to.

Chat Noir took a running leap, the world blurring around him as he twisted in mid-air, landing in a crouch on Marinette's roof. His racing heart seemed to stop completely, and the baton he'd been holding at the ready clattered on the ground.

Oh. _Oh._

His knees shook. "Ladybug?"

She threw herself at him then, burying her face in his neck. She was shaking, he realized. Adrien pulled back so he could study her, running his fingers through her loose hair before cupping her face.

"I thought," he said shakily. "For a second, I thought..."

His voice broke, and a tear ran down her cheek.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "I know, I'm sorry."

"I... you're okay?"

Her eyes softened. "I'm okay, kitty."

His heart was already calming, the fear melting away now that she was with him. She smiled up at him, touching his face.

"It's gone," she said. "The akuma's gone."

 _I could kiss you right now_ , he wanted to say, but Adrien just closed his eyes for a moment and breathed her in. Marinette's akuma was gone.

Then she giggled, and he laughed with her. She'd done it. The akuma was really gone.

"I thought you had fencing after your photoshoot," Marinette said, voice a little breathless, "and piano. Why are you here?"

"You needed me," he said plainly. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Oh, Chat," she whispered.

He glanced to the side, biting his lip. They couldn't stay here; someone would catch sight of Ladybug on top of the Dupain-Cheng boulangerie. The word would spread too fast, and he wasn't sure if she was ready to face Paris yet.

Or worse, people would start connecting the dots. Ladybug's disappearance, Fabricator, his appearances at the Dupain-Chengs, as discreet as he tried to be…

"We should go somewhere else," he whispered into his Lady's ear.

She bit her lip but nodded.

"Should I, um," she said, gesturing at herself. Adrien understood immediately.

"Maybe not?" he suggested carefully. It was still her choice whether she wanted to remain in the suit or not, but…

"I think Paris would appreciate seeing you," he said. "Even if you don't make a public announcement or appearance, your presence would really lift some spirits."

Ladybug studied her suit for a moment, then nodded.

"Yeah," she said. Adrien smiled and bowed, holding out a hand.

"Shall we, my Lady?"

"Oh, alright," she said, rolling her eyes but taking his hand anyway, smiling.

They leapt off the roof together, letting go of each other's hands so they could dance through the city. In the distance, the Eiffel Tower waiting, the beautiful structure welcoming amidst the beautiful colors of the sky.

"Race you there," Ladybug said, slipping up next to him, her yo-yo looping around a gargoyle.

He grinned. "You're on."

She was already ahead of him, and Adrien gave chase. There was a curious tickle in the back of his throat, and when he opened his mouth, delighted peals of laughter poured out.

They raced to the Eiffel Tower, their movements a dance he knew the steps of too well.

"Hurry up, kitty," Ladybug called over her shoulder, hair fluttering in the wind. Adrien's heart leapt in his chest when their eyes met.

She won, of course. She always did.

They leapt up the bars of the Eiffel Tower as the sun set in the distance, turning the sky different colors. Adrien followed Ladybug up and up, climbing higher and higher above the city.

She stopped at their favorite spot, letting go of her yo-yo and landing perfectly before sliding into a sitting position. He was only a few seconds behind her, retracting his baton as he took a seat next to her.

Adrien opened his mouth, trying to find something to say but coming up with nothing.

Ladybug bumped his shoulder with hers.

"So," she said.

"So," he replied.

She leant back, bracing herself on her hands as she stared out at the city they'd sworn to protect together.

"So much has changed," Ladybug began.

He reached for her hand without thinking, and she let him lace his fingers through hers, shifting so they were closer.

"Yeah." There was so much Adrien felt like he needed to say, but the words wouldn't come.

"Here we are," Ladybug said. "The heroes of Paris."

He smiled. "Who would've thought? A fashion designer's son and a baker's daughter."

They lapsed into silence for a while. Adrien let loose a long breath.

"What… happened today, Marinette?" he asked. She jolted at the use of her name then shifted, clasping her hands in her lap and looked away.

"I don't know," she said finally, but he could tell she did. He waited for a moment but pressed her again.

"My Lady," he said, and she frowned.

"It's stupid," she said.

Adrien grabbed her arm, and she turned to face him.

"It's not," he said fiercely, but she shook her head.

"I don't know who he was," she told him, shrugging a little, "but he just… brought up some… insecurities, I suppose."

When he didn't say anything, she kept going.

"He just–" she cut herself off, twisting her hands together anxiously. "He just– said some things about my– my race, that's all. It wasn't anything anyone hasn't said to me."

Ice coated Adrien's insides. He'd never stopped to consider that Marinette would have to face something like this – maybe because it wasn't something he'd ever had to deal with himself, how different their lives must be even if they were both heroes.

"What did he say?"

Ladybug tugged at her hair.

"Nothing I haven't heard before," she said lightly, though she was frowning. "Things about Fabricator, that I don't belong here."

The shock faded into anger, anger at both himself and this mystery man, and Adrien stood, curling his hands into fists.

"I'll–" he started through gritted teeth, but he didn't know what he'd do, only that there was a part of him that desperately needed to protect Ladybug, protect Marinette.

Ladybug was by his side in an instant, a hand on his tensed shoulder.

"Chat," she whispered, and he stopped. He couldn't help it – it was like all those times she'd catch his tail; her touch had the same effect. Adrien drew back slightly, the anger already cooling.

His eyes burned.

"You belong here," he said heavily, spinning to face her, eyes meeting hers.

She squeezed his shoulder and gave him a smile.

"I know."

But Adrien wasn't sure she did. He didn't know if she truly knew how much Paris needed her, how much _Adrien_ needed her, how she filled this world with such light as both Ladybug _and_ Marinette.

"You belong here," he repeated, then turned to look at their city. "Here, with me."

Their hands had found each other again, and Ladybug and Chat Noir stood side-by-side in the setting sun.

"I know," she said again. "I always have."

It was only when night pooled at the edges of the horizon that they finally parted ways, heading in different directions. Marinette promised to call him once she was home, winking at him once before she leapt off the Eiffel Tower, plunging towards the ground before her yo-yo sent her swooping upwards again.

He watched her for another moment, this girl he'd given his heart to, then left himself. There were other things to deal with – well, more like Nathalie, who would no doubt give him an earful about _being responsible_ and stuff about _freedom_ and _respecting your father's wishes_ while the Guerilla stood with crossed arms in the back, not saying a word, his presence more than enough.

He cringed at that and began the run home.

"Better go," he said to no one in particular.

Adrien made it up a total of ten steps – a new record – before there was a voice from behind. He counted the seconds, preparing, before he turned, holding his hands up in surrender. _Busted._

"Nathalie," he said. "I can explain–"

Nathalie stood at the foot of the stairs, the Guerilla not far behind.

"There's no need," she interrupted, holding up a hand, and Adrien blinked in surprise. She pushed her glasses up her nose.

"I understand your need to find your friend," Nathalie continued when he only gaped at her. She rolled her eyes. "However, your father does not, and he would like to speak to you in his office."

"Oh," was the only thing that came out.

"I'll be with you," Nathalie said. He nodded gratefully as she walked to join him, leading the way to Father's office. It was a small measure of comfort; the two of them had an understanding of sorts. It made Adrien smile.

Nathalie waited politely as Adrien knocked on the tall double doors.

They didn't need to wait long; a moment later, Father called out. "Come in."

Nathalie held the door as he stepped in. Adrien had to stifle the strange mix of excitement and nervousness. He'd spent his younger years growing up in this room, curled up in Maman's lap as she hummed a tune, peeking at whatever little designs his father was sketching out.

He'd grown older, and the doors had shut more often than they opened. Now, it was only when Father wanted to speak to him that he came in here.

It still looked like he remembered, though, the only part of Gabriel Agreste's life that seemed messy. Vibrant scraps of fabric were pinned to a large board strewn with sketches and papers covered in hastily scribbled ideas. In the corner, a bit faded, was a dress Adrien had drawn with Maman when he was seven that Father had used as inspiration for his _Dreamer_ collection.

His desk wasn't any better. A stack of toppled photos of his works as well as other designers' was hidden under another pile of paperwork. There was a half-empty water bottle, a potted plant that needed just a touch more sun, and colored pencils.

"Adrien," Father said.

He hadn't changed much either. His hair was a little greyer than Adrien remembered, but his suit was tight and unwrinkled. His expression was neutral as he clasped his hands over a design he'd been working on.

"Father."

Father nodded in acknowledgement as Nathalie shut the doors, standing so she wasn't intruding but still present.

"You missed your lessons today," Father said, lifting a pencil to nonchalantly make a few marks on the page. "We've talked about this."

Adrien swallowed. "I–"

He bowed his head. "Yes, Father."

Father frowned in disapproval. "Then you understand that your friends cannot get in the way of your schooling."

It was general enough, but Adrien caught the underlying hint about Marinette.

"Father–"

"If your friend Marinette proves to be a bad influence–"

He couldn't stop himself. For the first time in a long time, Adrien cracked for a moment.

"Marinette is _not_ a bad influence," he said, taking a step forward before he realized what he'd done and hastily shifted back, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Forgive me, Father," Adrien said. "I spoke out of line."

Father didn't say anything for a moment, only raising an eyebrow at his sketch before he set down his pencil.

"I did not say she was."

A long, empty pause before Nathalie stepped forward.

"Monsieur Agreste," she said. Father held up a hand, and she stopped, straightening.

"I know," he replied, and Adrien's brow furrowed.

They'd spoken about Marinette before, it seemed – but when? He wondered what Nathalie thought of Marinette; she seemed to like her, but Adrien wasn't sure. What had she said to his father?

"We have made many compromises this past year," Father continued. "I have taken into consideration the amount of time you spend with your friends."

No. Adrien didn't want to go back to the way things were before, back the too-quiet, empty mansion, to lessons with Nathalie, shut out from a world he hadn't even known existed. It would be even worse, knowing what he was missing.

"You have kept up your grades as promised, as well as your lessons for the most part. Consider this a warning."

Adrien's heart leapt in his throat. He wasn't going to be locked up here again.

"If you miss lessons in the future, I expect you to work with Nathalie to reschedule them on your free days instead of missing them."

"Thank you, Father," Adrien said. He had three days off a week, unless there were any impromptu photoshoots that weren't during his usual Sunday afternoons.

It didn't _sound_ like much of a change, not to most people, but the fact that Father was letting him have more control over his schedule – being able to attend events and hang out with his friends…

Father simply picked up the pencil again, continuing his work.

Adrien took that as a dismissal and turned to leave, thrumming with newfound energy when he realized Marinette would be calling him soon. He supposed she'd be hearing the news first.

"Wait," Father said when Adrien was almost out the door. Nathalie and Adrien both paused in surprise.

"Tell me about her."

It wasn't a question – Father didn't ask questions – but it was as close as he would get to one. Adrien wavered, itching to run to his room and wait for Marinette's call, but this was almost just as important.

When he hesitated, Father spoke. "She won the derby hat contest, did she not?"

"Oh," he realized. "Right. Yeah, she– she's a really good designer, Father."

"She's super nice," he continued when Father didn't. "She's always helping other people. She's quiet sometimes, but once you get to know her, she's very… bright."

He could never find another word to describe her. When he'd met her for the first time – twice, he supposed, once as Marinette and once as Ladybug – she'd been just that. She had an aura about her that just drew people in. Her kindness, her _smile_ …

Father simply nodded, the only sign he'd heard Adrien.

To most people, this would be disrespectful, maybe, or lacking. But Father had never been a man of many words or emotions – only Maman could draw that rare, loud laugh from his lips. He'd heard Adrien. He'd listened.

"Thank you, Father," Adrien said, quieter this time, a hint of warmth slipping into his words.

Father only nodded again, and Nathalie held the door wider, letting him pass. Adrien glanced back only once at his father, bent over his desk and the design he'd been working on, though he wasn't really working. He pictured his mother there, for a moment, and then Marinette.

Then the doors shut.

"Your Chinese lesson has already been rescheduled to tomorrow," Nathalie told him, and Adrien nodded absentmindedly, already yearning to have a scrap of silence, a moment to think.

"I'm just going to, ah," he began, waving his hand in the direction of his room before scampering off, not needing to look to know that Nathalie's lips had twitched in amusement.

His phone rang just as he threw himself into his swivel chair, spinning a few times. A familiar melody played, and Adrien scooped up his phone and answered.

" _Hey, kitty_ ," Marinette said through the phone.

Adrien smiled.

"Hey yourself, bug," he replied, using a foot to stop the chair so he wouldn't get dizzy and distracted. "Home yet?"

There was a muffled sound that Adrien couldn't identify; on the other end, Marinette hissed out a curse. She huffed.

" _Just got home_ ," she muttered, her tone a little mad, " _but I tripped over my plant_."

Adrien laughed.

"Is the plant okay?"

" _Adrien_ ," Marinette said, her voice so clear he could almost believe she was right next to him. Plagg, who'd come out of his hiding spot once the coast was clear, eyed Adrien and his phone disinterestedly before flying away.

Adrien rolled his eyes at his kwami before pushing off the ground so he could spin again, the world turning in circles, the dim and distant city lights leaving light trails in his vision.

" _Sorry it took so long to call_ ," Marinette continued. " _There was – oh, there was just this poor lost cat, awfully cute–_ "

"Aw," he interrupted. "You think I'm cute?"

Marinette scoffed, but there was no real heat in her words. " _Keep dreaming, you silly kitty_."

"You're my dream," he told her, and Marinette went silent for a moment.

" _Thank you, chaton_ ," she said finally, and Adrien smiled as he spun in slow, lazy circles.

A dream, indeed.

* * *

 **Wasn't that cute hahaha.**

 _achieving elysium_


	13. Chapter 13

**Unsung  
** _achieving elysium_

 _part iii. watch how the world burns  
chapter thirteen_

* * *

Marinette tapped her pencil against the desk, staring blankly at her homework before sighing and pushing herself away.

"Ugh," she grumbled, and Tikki laughed, curled up in a basket alongside spools of thread.

"You can do it, Marinette!" she cheered, and Marinette smiled at her kwami.

"Thanks, Tikki," she muttered absentmindedly, but though the encouragement was appreciated, it didn't help her in the slightest. Marinette spent the next hour struggling her way through the worksheet, feeling like she'd probably gotten it all wrong.

"Marinette," Maman called from downstairs. "It's time for dinner!"

Marinette shoved the history textbook away and exchanged a glance with Tikki before heading downstairs, her kwami hiding in her clothes. She helped set out the plates before they all gathered to eat, passing chopsticks around the table.

"Haven't seen you since this afternoon," Maman remarked, and Marinette had a brief flash of panic - what if they'd noticed her missing? But Maman didn't say anything else, so she just laughed nervously.

"Oh, you know me," Marinette said, spearing a dumpling with her chopsticks and grinning. "Hard at work, you know, a lot of homework to do."

"So how about that Agreste boy?"

Marinette choked on her dumpling, and Maman twisted in her chair to frown at Papa.

"Tom," she scolded as Marinette tried to recover, feeling her face burn at the thought. She gulped down a drink of water, realizing how much time she'd spent with Adrien lately - of course her parents had noticed.

Of course Papa had noticed.

"I- I- what?" she sputtered.

Maman was still giving Papa the look.

"Seems my princess has been spending a lot of time with a boy, hmm?"

"Stop teasing, Tom," Maman cut in.

"Come on, dear," he replied. "Don't you want to know about the boy who likes our daughter?"

"He doesn't like me," Marinette protested, setting down her water before she could choke on that, too. "And we're- we're just friends, that's all!"

Maman and Papa exchanged a meaningful look, like they knew something she didn't.

"I think you'd be surprised," Maman said gently, and Marinette shrugged, popping a dumpling in her mouth.

"He'll have to go through me first," Papa declared, and Marinette went red again. "No one deserves my princess."

He cracked his knuckles threateningly, and she slid down in her chair a little.

Adrien called her princess, too, she realized. The thought didn't help. Marinette wanted to slide from her chair and hide under the table from embarrassment.

"We're not dating, Papa."

"Alright," Maman interrupted before dinner became embarrass-Marinette-as-much-as-possible time. Still, even after they'd moved on, Marinette couldn't stop thinking about Adrien - her thoughts never seemed to stray very far from him these days.

She knew what Tikki would say, knew the conversation they'd have later in the safety of Marinette's room.

But there were still times Marinette would look at Adrien and find herself tongue-tied. Any sense of coherency went out the nearest window. Being closer didn't help. Their hands would brush together, or she'd catch him looking at her, or he'd smile when their eyes met, or-

She was still trying to figure out how Adrien fit into her life, what knowing the boy behind the mask meant when she'd spent so long trying to conceal their identities.

 _You belong here_ , he'd said earlier, and though she'd agreed, she wasn't sure she'd believed him in that moment.

 _You belong here_ , he'd insisted, as if he knew what she'd been thinking. _With me._

Marinette swallowed, wondering if he knew how much that meant to her. She felt like she'd spent half a lifetime searching, looking for a place in the world.

Maybe she'd finally found it.

"What if Ladybug and Chat Noir didn't get along?" she asked Tikki later, sprawled on her bed and staring out the window. "Has that ever happened?"

"Why do you ask?"

Marinette shrugged. "I just..."

Tikki settled next to her. "Not every Ladybug and Chat Noir have started off liking each other, no, but eventually, they all got along."

She thought about that for a moment. "How do you know? I mean- if... if they will?"

"The Chosen are always meant to find each other. You were meant to be Ladybug. Long before you met, your fate and Adrien's were already intertwined. I think you'd call them... soulmates, I guess."

Marinette's heart jolted in her chest. "Soulmates?"

She wasn't sure if she believed Tikki, wasn't sure how fate had decided to tie the two of them together with a long, red thread.

Thread...

Marinette sat up in bed, blanket falling to her waist as she fumbled to turn on a nearby lamp. She missed it three times before Tikki turned it on for her, painting the room in a soft, yellow light.

"What is it?"

Marinette stumbled out of bed, trying to move quietly so her parents wouldn't hear her.

"Fabricator," she said, fully aware she wasn't making any sense. Marinette touched one ear gingerly, then the other, reaffirming that she really did have both earrings.

"Marinette, you know-" Tikki began, looking worried as Marinette eased the door to the balcony open, slipping out into the cold night. She shivered as a cold breeze drifted by, but ignored it, knowing that the suit would keep her warm.

"No, you don't get it," said Marinette, sweeping an arm out to gesture at Paris. "I mean... I never used Miraculous Ladybug, did I?"

Marinette ran her hand over her own twisted, deformed railing and looked out at the city. In all the excitement, she'd almost forgotten about being a hero - well, not really, but being Ladybug meant that after taking care of herself, she had to take care of others, too.

She looked over at Tikki.

"Let's give Paris a helping hand, yeah?"

Marinette took a deep breath and transformed. She surveyed the damage on her own roof then leapt away, her yo-yo secured tightly around a chimney. She zipped through the air, relishing in the feeling of weightlessness, in the way the wind caught in her air, and a laugh bubbled up in her throat.

She made her way through the streets - not towards the Eiffel Tower, like she would've usually. Instead, she headed to the park, swinging carefully to avoid the red thread that hung around the buildings.

At this time of night, there was no one around when Marinette landed at the foot of Theo's statue of her and Chat. She studied it for a moment, looking at their stone faces, immortalized forever for everyone to see.

"Oh," she murmured.

At Ladybug's feet were scattered flower bouquets: roses and tulips and daisies, though most common were clusters of beautiful blue flowers that Marinette remembered were called cornflowers.

Alya had done a Ladyblog post on them once - well, on flowers. She'd listed 25 ladybug-attracting flowers for her Fact Friday posts; a day later, Chat had brought her a handful of the same flowers as the ones in front of her.

Marinette smiled.

There were even a few notes attached to some of the bouquets, and she took the time to skim a few of them. They all said the same thing, essentially, sending best wishes to Ladybug.

Marinette found herself perching on the edge of the statue, reading through the messages. Instead of turning on their hero, condemning her for not being there in a time of need, they supported her instead.

Halfway through the messages, Marinette glanced up to her left, looking at the side of Chat's face. She touched his stone hand and wished he could be here with her now.

 _You belong here_ , she heard him say again, and this time, Marinette believed him.

"I belong here," she said quietly for herself. Then, louder, stronger, she said it again for him.

Marinette stood so she could look at herself. Theo had sculpted her mid-jump, her yo-yo arcing in the air. She bounced the same yo-yo up and down, running a gloved hand over the surface, then tossed it in the air.

"Lucky Charm!"

A familiar energy wrapped around the yo-yo before it landed back in her palm.

It was a flower.

Not a real one, like the ones laid at her feet. Instead it was made of several layers of deep red fabric, cross-stitched in the center in a pattern that made it reminiscent of petals folding in on one another.

She ran her fingers over it, a bittersweet feeling washing over her. It was too familiar, one of the very flowers that had decorated her dress. She'd spent hours making these flowers by hand and attaching them one-by-one until they'd been placed exactly how she'd wanted.

The fabric flower marked a tragedy, a disaster started in motion by Chloé's words. Marinette glanced at the cornflowers hanging at her wrist and touched the ring of flowers gently.

Maybe it could mean something else.

On a whim, Marinette tugged down a piece of thread from where it was wrapped around her statue's arm and tied that around her wrist, too, her mind working the entire time.

She'd spent the past week hopelessly lost and confused, struggling to reconcile her self-doubt, her guilt, and her identity as both a person and as a superhero.

Everything had become a challenge.

She'd felt like the entire world had turned on her, like Papillon's poison had spread through her. Anything red was a reminder of Fabricator - of what she'd done. The flowers were catalysts, the thread the remaining effects.

Cornflowers - what had Alya said they represented?

Fortune, Marinette remembered, and friendship.

The red thread of fate had led her to becoming a hero, had tied an unlikely team together; she didn't know if she would've met Adrien if not for the Miraculous, or if she'd know him as well as she did without there being Ladybug and Chat Noir.

And red... how had Marinette never realized before? Red was Fabricator's color, of course, but long before it'd stood for liars and a silence she'd craved, it'd been Ladybug's.

She turned the fabric flower over in her hand one last time and then uncurled her fingers, flinging it in the sky.

"Miraculous Ladybug!"

Healing light burst around her, little ladybugs sweeping away the damage of the past, washing away the hurt. Marinette sighed, her hair caught in the wind, spreading her arms and smiling as Paris healed and the scars that had scabbed over faded.

A beeping in her ear reminded her that she had to go - sneaking back into the house as Marinette was much harder than Ladybug slipping in and detransforming, unnoticed, in her room.

Marinette paused and undid the only remaining string left, the piece she'd tied around her wrist. She tied it around her statue's pinky, the only finger she could reach without standing on her tip-toes, and after a moment's consideration, tied the other end around Chat's.

Then Marinette wrapped her fingers around her yo-yo and disappeared as quickly and as quietly as she'd come. She managed to make it back to her room in three minutes flat, just in time to detransform over her bed, both hero and kwami flopping down in exhaustion.

"I'll get you a cookie," Marinette finally whispered, slinging her legs over the side of the bed.

"Two," was Tikki's only response.

Marinette giggled. "Three it is, then," she murmured before making her way downstairs. The door to Maman and Papa's room was shut, which meant they were fast asleep. She was careful not to make too much noise as she crept like a thief in her own home.

"Tikki," she called quietly, waving the cookies in the air. Her kwami sat on the edge of the plate, taking a bite of the chocolate chip cookie and sighing.

Marinette took one herself, nibbling at it as she pulled her feet up onto the bed. The perks of living in a bakery - and incredibly lucky for Tikki - was that there was no shortage of bakery items, especially cookies.

Chocolate chip had always been her favorite. Papa's cookies were perfect; they weren't hard but weren't too soft either, delightfully chewy, with a wonderful balance of sweetness.

That she'd been apparently devouring them since last year meant there were always extras. She wondered if it was this easy in the Agreste household - Camembart was a tall order, but it wasn't like Adrien didn't have the money.

Tikki was halfway through her second cookie before she found the energy to speak.

"You did well tonight, Marinette."

Tikki, much like Marinette, was always overflowing with optimism and kind words. But they were still nice to hear - it was still nice to hear someone tell her she'd done a good thing. That whether she believed it most days or not, she deserved to be Ladybug.

Marinette savored her cookie.

"Thank you, Tikki."

The next day was samedi, which meant Marinette got to sleep in. It almost meant that she didn't have to worry about Alya yelling her face off about the Miraculous Ladybug that'd happened in the middle of the night, but she did have a barrage of texts that were only half-readable.

Though Marinette figured she'd regret it, she pressed the call button as she brushed her teeth. Alya picked up moments later.

"Marinette! Did you hear about-"

"Ladybug?" she interrupted around a mouthful of toothpaste. "Yeah."

"She- I- When?"

Marinette giggled and swept out of the bathroom, still on the phone as she climbed downstairs for brunch.

"Do you think ladybugs are nocturnal?"

"Um, no way," said Alya. "They're diurnal. And our Ladybug certainly isn't. Why would- how could I have missed this?"

"Anything up on the Ladyblog?" she asked.

"Everyone's as clueless as I am," Alya reported. "I'm gonna go to the park today - someone mentioned the Ladybug and Chat Noir statue. Coming? You can bring Manon."

Then, as if Marinette didn't already know, Alya sang, "Adrien will be there. Photoshoots on samedi, right?"

"Dimanche," Marinette replied automatically, "but I think he has one today."

"Girl," Alya said as Marinette padded into the bakery. "When are you going to ask him out?"

She covered her face with a hand. "Alya!"

"What?"

"Why is everyone so- so interested?" she cried, throwing her hands up. "Maman and Papa were asking about that yesterday, too."

"Asking about what?" Papa asked, pressing a warm, fresh slice of buttered toast into her hands. She took a bite and swallowed.

"Adrien," she said, fighting her blush.

"Ah," Papa said knowingly, eyeing her. She was already dressed to go out; Nadja would be here any minute to drop off Manon.

"What?" Marinette whined.

"Nothing," Papa and Alya answered at the same time.

"Can I go to the park today?" Marinette asked. Papa nodded.

"Take lunch with you," he called over his shoulder, and Marinette busied herself with grabbing a picnic basket and packing some of Papa's cold sandwiches and cookies from the bakery.

"You bringing lunch?" Alya asked, and Marinette used her shoulder to hold her phone so she could work with both hands.

"Yep," she replied, and Alya cheered.

"I'll buy us drinks, then," Alya said. "Text me when you're leaving. Meet at the usual spot?"

"Uh huh," Marinette mumbled. About to close the basket, she caught sight of the slice of cake Mme. Halle had insisted she take. She could split it, Marinette decided. It was large, after all, and she knew Alya and Manon would like it.

"Love you," Marinette said on autopilot, like she always did at the end of phone calls.

"Say that to Adrien," was Alya's only response before she hung up.

Marinette stared at her phone, Alya's photo taunting her, before she shook her head and slipped it in her pocket.

When she'd finished, Nadja and Manon were waiting in the front. Manon spotted her first, eyes lighting up and a smile splitting her face. Marinette felt her heart melt.

"Marinette!"

A moment later, she was almost bowled over by Manon, the little girl clinging to her leg.

"Hi, Manon," she murmured, amused.

"Going somewhere?" Nadja asked, smiling at her.

"To the park," Marinette replied.

Nadja's eyes brightened. "Well, have fun, you two. And Manon, be good for Marinette, yeah?"

"Yes, Mama!" Manon tugged on her hand. "Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

Marinette let Manon drag her through the streets to the park. Alya was already waiting for them, standing in the shade of the tree Marinette had carved her name on when she'd been in sixième with Nino. She waved when she saw them.

"Alya," she called in greeting, holding her basket up.

"Hey," her best friend replied, spreading a blanket she'd brought and patting the empty space next to her. Manon scrambled ahead of Marinette, flopping down on the blanket and giggling.

While Alya cracked the bottles of juice she'd brought open, Marinette passed out sandwiches to each of them and settled in, Manon already chattering away about this and that. She soaked in the moment - the dappled sunlight from the trees, Alya pushing her glasses higher up on her nose, the crumbs on the corners of Manon's mouth, stretched in a wide smile.

"So," Alya drawled, nudging her with an elbow and using her half-eaten cookie to point in the direction of something Marinette couldn't see, her view blocked. "What about Adrien?"

Marinette just about had a heart attack when she realized Alya was gesturing to Adrien himself, walking through the trees as Vincent snapped photos of him and yelled out encouragement.

"Adrien Agreste?" Manon butted in, eyes wide. She'd been in one of his photoshoots, Marinette remembered faintly, which was one more than Marinette had been in. The kid looked back up at her babysitter. "Is he your boyfriend?"

She had to swallow the piece of cookie in her mouth before she could spit it out.

"W-what?"

"See?" Alya pointed out, looking smug as she took a swig of juice. "Even the kid knows it."

"Alya," she protested, her face hot. "I thought... I thought we were, um, here for the Ladyblog."

"Oh, we are," she replied flippantly, "but it'd be a shame if you didn't go say hi."

"He's in the middle of a photoshoot!"

"So?"

"Ladybug and Chat Noir?" Manon interrupted. "Can we go see the statue, Marinette, please, please, please!"

"Yes!" she cried, standing up and putting away the cake they hadn't gotten to eat. "Let's go see the statue. Coming, Alya? Didn't you say there was something you wanted to see?"

Alya narrowed her eyes. "I know what you're doing, girl."

But the temptation was too much for the Ladyblogger, so off they went. There were a few people milling around the statue, taking pictures; Marinette grinned when she saw that the hanging thread she'd tied around Ladybug and Chat Noir's fingers was still there.

"Look," Alya said, pointing at it before pulling out her phone. "You think Ladybug did that?"

Marinette shrugged and hid her smile.

"What do you think?"

"I think she did," came a new voice, and Marinette whirled around, letting out a shriek when she saw Adrien standing there. She immediately went red.

"Hi, Adrien, oh, hi," she stammered, wondering if it was too late to leave.

"Hey, pretty boy," Alya said as Marinette tried to calm her heart. "What are you doing here? Thought you were taking pictures with Vincent."

Adrien shrugged. "He let me take a break so he could review a couple photos. Said there was just something..." he paused, holding up his fingers and snapping, his voice changing so he could imitate his photographer. "...missing."

Marinette giggled.

"What's it mean, though?" Alya pondered.

"Alya! Miss Alya!" someone cried, running up to them. On instinct, Marinette took a step back, surprised by the sudden attention even if it wasn't directed at her.

"Do I know you?" Alya asked.

"Oh, no," said the girl, eyes wide. "I'm just a follower of the Ladyblog. Have you seen Ladybug at all? I mean, no one knew about the Miraculous Ladybug at all."

"Yeah," Adrien chimed in. The poor girl started, not having realized he was there, and immediately blushed, asked for an autograph, and almost burst into tears. Marinette hid her face in her hands. Like almost every girl in Paris, she would've done the same.

"Let's go look." Alya saved the fan, starting up a conversation about the Ladyblog and looping arms with Manon, who was begging for pictures.

Marinette narrowed her eyes at Alya's back. She'd left her alone— with Adrien.

The day suddenly felt too hot. She tugged at the collar of her shirt, searching for a breeze as Adrien shifted his feet, scratching the back of his neck.

"Hey," he said finally.

Marinette averted her eyes. "Hi."

"Um-"

"So-"

They spoke at the same time, and she giggled.

"You go first."

"No, you go," she said, crossing her arms until he did.

"You didn't tell me you were going to... do this," he said, gesturing around them, his tone a little accusatory.

Marinette stared at the thread, the wind making it dance.

"I didn't, either," she told him. "It just kinda... happened."

Adrien opened his mouth to speak before they were interrupted by the sound of a camera shutter.

"Yes, wonderful," someone gushed. "Now, look intensely at the statue! It is the most beautiful piece of art you have ever seen. Yes, yes!"

The camera went off again and again. Marinette stumbled back a step, suddenly realizing what was happening and that she'd been holding Adrien's hand by reflex. She quickly dropped it as Adrien turned.

"Vincent, what... what are you doing?"

"No, no!" Vincent waved his hands frantically. "You ruined the shot! It was perfect, and now it is gone."

"What?" Marinette whispered, her throat dry, but no one heard her.

"You can't just...," said Adrien weakly, glancing at her.

"Ah," Vincent sighed. "But it was so romantic, the photo! Please, miss, you must let me photograph you."

"Uh, um, um," was her only response.

"Marinette, you don't have to do it if you don't want to," Adrien said.

"No, I, um," she said. She smoothed down her dress. "But I'm not wearing anything special. And, I, um-"

Her dress, plain black with a ladybug pattern that cut off just above her knees, was simple - good for a day out, but hardly worthy of a photoshoot.

"You look great," Adrien reassured her.

She didn't know if she could do this. Those photos would appear in thousands of publications promoting the Agreste line. Adrien and her.

"Can... can you not show my face?" she asked Vincent.

The photographer misunderstood her meaning.

"A wonderful idea," he boomed. "It will add a taste of mystery. Flair. Yes, I can see it - Adrien Agreste and mystery girl in photoshoot... romantic."

Marinette stared at him.

"Um, sure," she said weakly, trying for a smile.

"Act natural," Vincent told them. "I'm not even here!"

That was the worst thing anyone could say; Marinette could feel her limbs lock up, the nervousness that came from trying to "act natural" and having a camera trained on her a little overwhelming. She'd never been in a photoshoot before - she didn't know what to do.

Adrien linked their arms together. "You'll do great, Marinette."

She focused on him, trying to ignore Vincent in the background, shutter shots following them.

"Sorry about that," he said as they began to walk, turning so he could smile. Click. "Vincent is a little..."

"Excited?" she suggested, and he laughed.

"That's one way to put it," Adrien said. "So was that you?"

He jerked his head in the direction of the thread she'd left. Marinette tucked a stray hair that had escaped her ponytail back behind her ear.

"Um, yeah," she admitted.

"Why?"

The question was simple enough, but he cast a sidelong glance at her, his gaze burning. Electricity crackled in the air between them, and Marinette cleared her throat.

"Something Tikki told me," she said vaguely, hoping he wouldn't ask.

Soulmates.

Did she really believe that? Marinette wondered. Adrien's fingers brushed the inside of her wrist.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste. Ladybug and Chat Noir. Soulmates.

"Did you see the flowers?" he asked, sensing she didn't want to talk about it. Marinette breathed a sigh of relief, hoping she wasn't too obvious, and nodded.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat that had formed unwillingly. "Um, yeah."

The two of them walked closer, gazing up at the statue of themselves. Theo had _really_ done a great job – they seemed almost real, and every piece of herself that she'd memorized was there, from the number of spots on her suit down to every facial feature, whether she liked them or not.

Click. Click. Marinette made a face, knowing Vincent couldn't see it.

"I always liked to come look at this," Adrien murmured, "to remind myself I had you. That I wasn't alone."

Marinette squeezed his hand.

"You're not," she said fiercely, then smiled. "And you won't have to come back alone, either."

Adrien's eyes lit up like the lights of Paris at night, the city rivaling the stars and moon above them. His lips curled into a smile.

Even after almost a year having known him as both Adrien and Chat Noir, the look on his face still took her breath away. Marinette was selfish, horribly so — she liked seeing that light in his eyes, and liked knowing that as Ladybug, _she_ got to put it there. She'd always seen it after fighting an akuma, or in spare moments on night patrols, or when they sat on the Eiffel together, pumping their legs in the cold air and exchanging grins. As Adrien, she saw it less, but it was still there, sometimes.

She liked seeing him happy. And maybe it was a little self-centered to say, but _she_ made him happy.

"Asking me out on a date, are we, my Lady?" he asked, teasing playfully.

Marinette rolled her eyes.

"Si- silly kitty," she shot back, but her world felt a little off-kilter. Suddenly, that playful, harmless flirting felt like it was something more, like he really meant it. Marinette shook her head.

Click. She sighed.

In the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Alya standing off to the side, holding hands with Manon. When she saw her looking, Alya shot her a thumbs up and a smile.

She was suddenly reminded of the picnic basket still hanging on her arm, and she glanced at Adrien before clearing her throat.

"Do you, uh, want to join us?" she asked shyly. Before he could say anything, she continued, "I have some cake from the boulangerie I was going to share, but Manon dragged us off before we could eat it so. Um. I mean, you don't really have to if you don't want to—"

He blinked at her.

"Of _course_ I want to," he said enthusiastically, a smile splitting his face.

"Um, will Vincent mind?"

Adrien glanced over his shoulder at Vincent, a few short words flying over her head before he waved brightly at Alya and Manon.

"Hi, Adrien," Alya greeted warmly, "I see you got Marinette to model with you."

Marinette let out a giggle that was higher than she'd wanted it to be.

"Yeah," Adrien replied. "Vincent can get a little… er, enthusiastic about an idea sometimes."

"Hi!" Manon said, and despite herself, Marinette smiled.

"Did you get Alya to take some pictures for you, Manon?"

Manon's eyes shone. "Yeah!"

"Let's see them," Adrien said smoothly. Manon stole Alya's phone and clicked through her photos while Marinette spread the blanket out again, taking out the cake and setting it in the center. She deftly cut it into a few pieces and passed around paper plates and forks.

"You're too good to us, Mari," Alya said through a mouthful of cake. "Holy f- fudge, this is…"

" _Really_ good," Adrien finished for her.

Marinette dug her fork in and ate, the rich flavors exploding across her tongue. The thick and sweet cream frosting paired with the taste of coffee dulling the sweetness created a delicious balance that had never ceased to impress Marinette.

She giggled when she saw Manon, cream smeared across her cheek. She found a napkin and wiped it off before tweaking her nose, making Manon laugh.

"Man, I love your dad," Alya said.

"Do you think he'll adopt us?"

Manon was too busy shoveling cake in her mouth to speak coherently, but she tried her best. Marinette just laughed.

When Adrien finished his cake, he looked at them and the empty plate regretfully.

"Think we should be about done," he told Marinette, looking over at Vincent, who was lurking in the distance.

"Oh," she said, a little crestfallen.

"Come on," he said, bumping their shoulders together. "Let's go see the statue one last time."

His eyes flitted over to Alya and Manon. "Do you two wanna come?"

Marinette gave Alya a hard look. Her friend only smiled in return.

"Nah. Thanks, though," she said, tapping her phone and grinning. "I've gotta update the Ladyblog before all the forums blow up more than they already have."

Adrien pulled Marinette to her feet.

"Send me the link, yeah, Alya?" he said as a farewell.

She winked and returned to her phone, her fingers flying over the keyboard. Manon stood so she could peer over Alya's shoulders.

"Shall we, my Lady?" he asked jokingly, offering her his arm.

She fit her hand in the crook of his elbow, fingers resting gently on the exposed skin where his jacket had ridden up.

"I guess we shall," she replied, blushing. "Such a gentleman."

"You know me," he said, winking. "I'm _always_ a gentleman."

"As if."

He put a hand over his heart. "You wound me, Princess."

"Hmm," Marinette hummed in response. They made a few rounds about the statue, the sound of Vincent's camera going off in the distance, and Marinette peeked up shyly at Adrien and found him looking at her.

"What does it mean?" he asked quietly, reaching his fingers up to touch the thread, though he couldn't quite reach it, as high as it was. "What did Tikki tell you?"

" _Oh_ ," Marinette said, wringing her hands together. "I really can't."

He looked a little disappointed at that, but he nodded. Her heart squeezed.

"What do you think it means, then?" she asked him quietly. "That thread means a lot to me… but maybe it's something else to you."

Adrien cocked his head and pondered that for a moment, deep in thought. If he'd been in his suit – his superhero one, that was, she would've teased him for it, would've tapped the little golden bell that hung around his neck.

"I think," he began, "it's a promise."

Marinette couldn't help the giggle. She clapped her hand over her mouth at Adrien's startled and crestfallen look.

"I'm not laughing at you," she said quickly. "That's not- I'm sorry, that's awful, I didn't mean to. It was just so surprising… I wasn't expecting that at all."

He raised an eyebrow. "Not close to yours at all, then, huh?"

Marinette thought about it.

"I guess," she said eventually, "in a way. But why a promise?"

Adrien shrugged.

"I just… well." He paused. "I think both of us have made quite a few promises lately. And I'd like to keep them."

"Adrien," she said, touched.

They really had. From the little ones, like telling Alya she'd text her about the not-date or when she'd assured Mme Halle that Papa's coffee cake was to die for, to the bigger ones, like Adrien saying that it'd be okay. That people cared about her.

Even as Fabricator, she'd promised Papillon she'd bring him the Miraculous – though that was one she was glad to have broken.

"Shall we make another one?" he asked, offering her his pinky. She didn't miss the significance.

"For what?" Marinette asked, but she hooked her pinky with his anyway.

"To not being alone," he said, quoting his words from before. Marinette pressed their thumbs together.

"To being here for you," she replied. "If you need me, I'll be there."

Adrien caught her hand and laced their fingers together. There was that light again, brighter than she'd seen it.

"The same goes for you," he said, and even after she'd gone home with Alya and Manon had been picked up, that light stayed there in her chest, pocketed right next to her heart.

* * *

 **This is 5k. Take it! Take it!**

 **(Also, this is one of my favorite chapters.)**

 _achieving elysium_


	14. Chapter 14

**Unsung**  
 _achieving elysium_

 _part iii. watch how the world burns  
chapter fourteen_

* * *

"Marinette! Someone's here for you!" The shout floated from downstairs.

"Yes," Marinette hissed, pumping her fist in the air and pushing herself away from the table, her chair rolling back a little.

"Marinette," Tikki scolded. "That homework needs to be done."

"I know, I know," she grumbled. "But the others are coming over later for a study session anyway. Quick, Tikki, hide."

Her kwami hid in her hair as she padded down from the loft.

"Oh," she said, taken aback. "It's you."

Adrien grinned. "You don't sound particularly excited to see me."

She felt her face go hot. "Of course I am! But… I thought you had another photoshoot?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, I do. But I convinced the Gorilla to, uh, make a quick detour, so here I am."

He spread his arms out invitingly, and Marinette stepped in for a quick hug, squeezing briefly before stepping back. It was then she noticed the package in his hand.

"What's that?"

Adrien winked. "I'm playing delivery boy today," he said, but there was a genuine smile on his face. "It's from Chloé. Um, for you."

Marinette's brow creased as she took it from his hand. "But why? You didn't make her–"

"No," he said quickly. "We just spent some time together yesterday and this morning for breakfast, that's all. She said she wanted me to pass it on to you."

He made a face then amended his sentence. "Well, not really in so many words. And she didn't seem that happy about it, but I'm pretty sure that's yours."

She squinted at him. "Are you sure?"

" _Paw_ sitive."

She groaned. "Will you stop using that one? You can annoy me with literally any other pun than that."

" _Litterally_ ," he corrected, and Marinette passed a hand over her face, regretting it already.

"Anyway," he said, changing the topic. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

She nodded, walking him to the door and waving, her mind on the beautifully wrapped box Adrien had handed her.

"Oh," he said, putting a hand on the door so she couldn't close it. "What did you mean before? I think we both forgot about it, but you said something about samedi night."

Marinette blinked. "I… I don't know," she confessed, then shrugged. "It probably wasn't very important."

Their eyes met, and Marinette lifted her hand in goodbye.

 _"_ _Chloé?_ " Marinette asked aloud once he was gone, exchanging a look with Tikki. "Am I dreaming?"

Tikki looked just as incredulous.

"No, you're not," she said, but her voice was unsure.

"Should I open it?" A thought occurred to her. "Oh, no. Do I have to send something back?"

"Something Ladybug-related, perhaps?" Tikki suggested as Marinette returned to her room, pushing aside the work on her desk so she could look at the box.

It was so much prettier than she was used to, with gold detailing around the edges and a nice, deep red ribbon tied in a bow on top. Marinette held her breath as she carefully undid it, hoping this wasn't some terrible prank.

"What?"

It was… fabric. Marinette lifted yard after yard of fabric from the box, unfolding so it dropped to the floor. A note fluttered to the floor, a small piece of paper, but Marinette was too busy trying to remember how to breathe to pick it up.

Adrien had obviously had a hand in this – she'd been on an outing with him and the others when she'd spotted this fabric in a store window, dark and lovely. It'd been too expensive for her to purchase; she'd seen Adrien's thoughtful face, though he hadn't said anything at the time.

"Tikki," she whimpered, the only sound she could make. "It's… this…"

This was the fabric of dreams, deep black tulle spotted with glimmering beads. She pressed her hand under it and marveled at the way her pale skin seemed to be cloaked in a shadow of the night sky itself, the beads like silvery stars as the light caught them.

"Beautiful," Tikki murmured.

 _Not just,_ Marinette thought.

There was enough fabric to make a skirt, maybe, and the bodice of a gown. Even then, there'd still be a little left over. Her mind turned over the information; Marinette pressed her lips together and toyed with an idea.

She grabbed her sketchbook from where it was lying under an essay and spun in her chair, finding a pencil and opening it. Marinette paused on the sketch of the dress she'd done for Paris' Young Designers, running her finger down the design.

Marinette considered it for a moment, then took a deep breath and turned to the next page – clean and blank, ready for whatever came next. The dress was far from forgotten, but it was time to keep going.

She sketched out a couple designs, pursing her lips as she tried to figure out what she'd give Chloé in return, before she finally settled on one, looking at Tikki for her input.

"What do you think, Tikki?"

It was simple, easy enough so that she wouldn't need to spend much time on it.

"I like it," Tikki said, flopping onto the page. "It looks a little big, though."

"Mmm," she said, measuring out the fabric, careful not to cut too much of it. "I can adjust that no problem."

By the time the doorbell rang, Marinette had dragged out her improvised mannequin so she could drape some fabric. She'd finished making and wrapping Chloé's gift and hadn't been able to resist working on a new design.

The doorbell rang a second time, and she groaned, using her foot to shove a box of tools out of the way.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she told her friends, even if they couldn't hear her.

"Hey, Marinette," Nino greeted when she opened the door for him, taking his shoes off and leaving them outside. Alya came running up the stairs as she was about to close the door, waving her arms excitedly.

"Wait for me," Alya panted, and Marinette grinned at her, kissing her friends' cheeks in greeting.

"Just in time, babe," said Nino, "and we're going to your room, right?"

"Yeah," she answered, then spun around quickly when she remembered. "Oh! Nino, be careful, it's a bit of a mess!"

"'Course it is," Alya joked, slipping her jacket off and throwing it over the back of the couch. "Adrien here yet?"

"No," she replied. "Go ahead and go up, yeah? I think I'm going to see if I can get some snacks from downstairs."

"You're the best," Alya sang before following Nino, the two of them disappearing up the steps to Marinette's room. She herself slipped out the door and went downstairs to the boulangerie. Papa smiled when he saw her.

"I baked an extra batch in the back," he told her.

She kissed both his cheeks in thanks and found a plate of covered cookies waiting for her. Marinette breathed in the aroma of freshly-baked bread, pastries, and treats, resisting the temptation to sneak one of the cookies out of the pile and into her mouth.

She _did_ pull one out for Tikki, though, her kwami excited to see her favorite food.

"Thanks, Marinette," she chirped, and Marinette only smiled in reply, blocking the sight with her body just in case Papa waltzed in, trays in hand.

"All done?" she asked when she saw Tikki licking the crumbs off her tiny paws.

"Yep," her kwami said, snuggling into Marinette's pocket, which – while not big enough to fit her phone – was perfect for kwamis.

The bell jingled as Marinette headed back upstairs. At first, she thought it'd signaled just another customer until a shadow fell over her. She turned, smiling when she saw Adrien, hands stuck in his pockets.

He lifted his hand in an awkward little half-wave, and Marinette smiled back at him, the beginnings of a blush spreading across her face.

"I'm not late, am I?" Adrien asked, glancing at the clock on the wall and then to the many shelves of the boulangerie, where the Gorilla lingered to look at the pastries.

"You're fine," she said, popping the door open. "Nino and Alya just got here a minute ago."

The slight relief in his face was evident.

"Good," he said, "because I thought I was, and I wasn't sure if I should've called you or not-"

"Calm down, pretty boy," piped another voice from inside his clothes. Plagg poked his head out of Adrien's jacket. "Your girl wouldn't have minded much."

" _Plagg_ ," Adrien hissed, giving his kwami a look and pausing on the stairs. "Someone could've seen you."

"What," Plagg drawled, "I mean, who else is here besides your girl?"

It _was_ true, as much as Marinette's first instinct was to hide him, to keep their secrets safe. But no one was going to come up this way – Maman and Papa were busy running the boulangerie, and Nino and Alya were waiting in Marinette's room.

"Plagg," Adrien said again, the name more of an exasperated sigh than it was a word.

"Come on," Marinette said, waving them up the stairs. "Plagg, you will have to hide once we're in my room, okay? Nino and Alya don't know."

When they reached her room, Marinette half-expected to see Nino and Alya stuck in a maze of fabric and sewing supplies, tossed haphazardly on the ground. Somehow, though, they'd managed to find a clean piece of carpet and had set up base there – textbooks, tablets, and all.

"Watch your step," she warned Adrien, twisting through her room expertly.

Adrien followed her across the disaster zone just as easily, though, and they finally made it to the same bit of carpet that their friends were at.

"I'm surprised you didn't trip," Alya said, making grabby hands at the plate.

Marinette shrugged, uncovering it and letting her take a cookie. "I know where everything is."

"What's up with all this, anyway?" Nino asked, snagging a cookie from the plate as she sat down.

She shrugged again.

"Adrien brought me a present."

Alya raised both eyebrows at her and gave her a hard look.

"Um," Marinette said, "from Chloé, I mean."

Alya's face had become even more disbelieving. Nino laughed.

"Chloé? As in Chloé Bourgeois, the queen bee herself?"

"Hey," Adrien said warningly, though he didn't say anything after that. Nino shook his head, patting Adrien's shoulder.

"Sorry, dude, I just… what?"

Marinette gestured at her mannequin, where the fabric was still draped and hanging down in thick folds. She still didn't quite believe it herself, not really.

"Thank you, by the way," she told Adrien, nudging him. "I know you helped."

He shrugged bashfully. "I saw you eyeing it."

"You're so cute," Alya remarked, patting Adrien's knee like she was an old grandmère. She looked like she was about to say more, but she glanced at Marinette and then at Nino and shut her mouth.

"I just thought it would be nice," said Adrien, but he blushed when Marinette reached for his hand and squeezed it.

Alya elbowed Nino and gave him a look.

"Aw, what," Nino groaned. Alya jerked her head pointedly, and his expression cleared. "Oh. Right."

"Do you ever feel like you've missed something big?" Marinette asked.

"Yeah," Adrien agreed. "What's up with you two, Alya?"

"Nothing," Nino answered before Alya could say a word. "I just… uh, remembered something we had planned."

"Sure," she drawled, and then muttered, _"Lovebirds."_

Adrien high-fived her while Nino turned red.

 _"_ _So,"_ Alya said pointedly. "We should probably get that homework done, right?"

Marinette mock-gasped before sprawling out on the floor and tugging on Alya's arm so she would join her. "You actually _want_ to do homework, Alya? Who are you, and what have you done to my best friend?"

"Hey," Alya complained.

"She's not wrong," Nino pointed out, but he took out a pen and twirled it between his fingers.

They quieted as they started working, Marinette pressed against Alya's side. The only sounds were when they checked their work together or asked questions; otherwise, there was little else to be said.

Marinette was halfway through some research on her phone when she felt eyes on her. She glanced up and found Adrien's gaze settled on her, a worksheet beneath him unfinished.

When she caught him looking, he blushed and continued working.

 _What's up,_ she sent through text. A second later, his phone buzzed; he read it and smiled.

 _Meet tomorrow night, my Lady?_ He sent back.

Marinette chewed on her lip thoughtfully and looked over at him. He nodded when he saw her – not a meeting, then, but a patrol. And he'd given them a day to let Paris settle after what she'd done the night before; otherwise, they'd be bombarded by people, no matter how late.

 _Yeah,_ she sent back, then hovered over the keyboard, wondering if she should send a heart.

Her phone buzzed. _Yes!_ He'd replied, following up with a smiling emoji. Marinette left the text window, leaving the heart unsent.

"You should tell him," Tikki said after they'd all left.

Marinette pretended she didn't know what her kwami was talking about.

"Tell him what?"

"You know," said Tikki, unimpressed.

Marinette leveled a gaze at her. "I don't."

"How you feel!"

 _"_ _Tikki,"_ Marinette sighed.

"He likes you a lot, you know," Tikki said, circling in the air. "You just don't see it."

She jutted out her lower lip and sighed again. "He doesn't like me like _that_ , Tikki."

"Last time I checked," Tikki started, floating so close to her face that Marinette went cross-eyed looking at her. "You weren't blind. Oh, wait. I think you are!"

"Tikki," she said again.

"Maybe you should get glasses," her kwami continued thoughtfully. "Or maybe you should kiss Adri-"

"Tikki!"

Tikki sighed. "I'm just _saying!_ "

"Whatever," she huffed, twirling her pencil for a moment before abandoning her work. There wasn't much left to do, anyway, and Marinette was too distracted to work.

Her phone buzzed. Marinette's heart leapt then fell a little when the screen read _Alya_ instead of _Adrien._

Alya had left her math homework; Marinette promised to bring it for her on lundi. A few minutes of chatting later, Marinette found herself restless and promised to text Alya later.

"Wait," she said before the call was done. "Look, Alya… I had an idea the other day…"

They talked as she wandered downstairs into the bakery, hoping the store would take her mind off things. Marinette hung up after the conversation finished, stuffing her phone in her pocket.

"Need some help?" she asked Maman, sidling up next to her as she manned the counter. Marinette didn't wait for an answer, though, waving at the customers.

"Can you sweep?" Maman asked, handing her the broom that was leaning against a nearby wall. "I think there was a spill somewhere."

She waved her hand vaguely near the front door, and Marinette saluted jokingly before going off to do her job. She hummed as she swept at the breadcrumbs and residue left by hungry customers. The work was mindless and easy to do, something routine and relaxing.

The bell jingled.

Marinette didn't pay much attention to their new customers, continuing to sweep. Maman called out a greeting as Marinette weaved around a display box.

A pair of white shoes stopped where she was about to sweep. Marinette opened her mouth as she looked up, about to ask politely for the customer to move, and blinked.

"Hello, Marinette."

"Oh," she said, fingers flexing around the broom's handle. "Chloé."

"My father wanted to stop by," Chloé said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I didn't want to be here, for your information."

"Thanks," grumbled Marinette, but her annoyance faded a little. "Um. Really, though. Thank you, Chloé."

"I don't know what you're talking about," her classmate said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, but her lips were quirked to the side in her own version of a smile. Well, as close of a smile as Marinette would ever get.

"Wait," she said. "Just – I have something for you, too."

"Huh?"

But Marinette was already running, bolting up the stairs. She had to dig around on her desk a little bit before she found the wrapped box.

"Got it," she murmured to herself, high-fiving Tikki before running back down the stairs. She nodded at Mayor Bourgeois in greeting, as much as she didn't like him, and skidded to a stop in front of Chloé.

"Here," she said, thrusting the gift at her.

"Is this…," said Chloé, her forehead wrinkling. It was the same box Chloé had given her – it must have looked like Marinette wanted to return the gift.

"Open it," she prompted.

Chloé gave her a distrustful look, glancing at her father before opening it.

For a second, Marinette thought she didn't like it. There was no change in her face, but she thought she caught something in Chloé's eyes.

"Thanks, I guess," Chloé said, handing the box to her butler. "Put that in the car."

"Yes, Mlle. Bourgeois," he said.

"Not bad," said Chloé.

"Not bad yourself," she responded.

Some kind of understanding passed between the two of them in that moment. Marinette clasped her hands in front of her and made a split-second decision.

"Tomorrow night," she said, mind working.

"Huh?"

"Tomorrow night," Marinette repeated, biting her lip. "Uh… maybe keep an eye out for Ladybug, yeah?"

Before Chloé could respond, Mayor Bourgeois appeared behind her.

"We're leaving," he said. "Say goodbye."

Marinette and Chloé snorted at the same time.

"Bye," the other girl said shortly.

"See you around," Marinette replied, waving a hand in goodbye. She watched Chloé climb into the car, watched it pull away from the curb and disappear.

"Huh," she muttered to herself.

Marinette had a lot of work to do.

* * *

 **soo... this fic is almost over, which means i get to share some exciting news! :D**

 **i'm working really hard on the last chapter right now - soon, Unsung will be done. but that doesn't mean it's the end for the Unsung-verse!**

 **without further ado, i'd like to (publicly) announce that a sequel is iin the works/i as are a few other stories!**

 _achieving elysium_


	15. Chapter 15

**Unsung**  
achieving elysium

 _part iii. watch how the world burns  
chapter fifteen_

* * *

"Ready?" Alya asked.

Marinette wrung her hands together nervously and took a deep, steadying breath. Across the room, her best friend sent her a smile.

"You got this, girl," she said, and Marinette smiled back.

"Okay," she said, taking another deep breath before nodding. "I'm ready."

"Camera's recording," Alya reported a second later.

For a moment, Marinette didn't think she could do it. The words – everything she'd planned to say and everything she'd wanted to say – died on her lips. She swallowed, imagining that behind the camera were hundreds and maybe thousands of people.

"Hello, Paris," she said finally. "My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng…"

She trailed off, looking hesitantly at Alya, who only gestured for her to keep going.

"…um," Marinette continued, then changed topics. "There have been twenty-nine akumatized villains in Paris over the past year alone. Twenty-nine. Um, in Paris alone, there are more than two _million_ people. Next to that, twenty-nine doesn't look like much at all.

"But… that's twenty-nine people who have been akumatized – and I was one of them.

"I don't think anyone knows how it feels to do what I did. I don't know if people understand what we went through, what it was like to try to figure out how to go back, well, a normal life. It was hard, to say the least. There were days where I woke up hating myself – and though I've made peace with it, there are still those days."

Marinette licked her lips and wiped her sweaty hands on her pants. _Deep breath in. Deep breath out._

She thought of Alya, who looked close to tears behind the camera. Thought of Nino, of Adrien, of her parents, of everyone who had not loved her less for being Fabricator.

"My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You might know me better as Fabricator," she said again, lifting her chin and staring into the camera. "And I am not a villain."

Alya lifted up her glasses to wipe at her eyes and then stepped into frame.

"My name is Alya Cesaire," she continued. "You might know me better as Lady Wifi. I am not a villain."

 _I am not a villain._

Marinette said it to herself every time they knocked on the door of someone who had been akumatized.

 _I am not a villain._

"It took me a while to learn that," she told Tikki when they'd finished filming. She and Alya had come up with the idea not too long ago – a video for the Ladyblog's ten month anniversary. Not an exclusive, not an interview or behind-the-scenes, but something else entirely.

A message for Paris – and for Papillon, wherever he was.

She hoped he would see it, hoped he would see the way they'd stood together, unwavering in their hope and belief. Hoped he would see it and take a step back in fear.

"I'm glad you did," Tikki said back, eyes bright as she looked up at Marinette.

She smiled back. _"Tikki, spots on!"_

A moment later, Ladybug was hooking her yo-yo around a nearby chimney and swinging into the distance. She waved at passersby when they stared up at her, necks craning as fingers pointed towards the sky.

She didn't stop, though, only pausing once to survey the city before nodding to herself.

There was no doubt that her appearance would start a few conversations, so Marinette made sure no one was following her as she swung from building to building.

"Okay," she muttered, twirling her yo-yo in a circle. She hooked it around a gargoyle and flew through the air, twisting so she landed lightly on her feet. Her landing made no sound, but her shadow pooled on the floor.

On the other side of the glass, Chloé looked up sharply.

"Oh," she gasped, looking up from the fashion magazine she'd been reading and running over to the glass doors that led to her balcony. "Ladybug!"

Chloé threw her arms around her. Marinette winced but patted her back lightly, trying not to flinch.

"Hello, Chloé," she said, keeping her tone straight.

"I can't believe you're here," Chloé sang, twirling in a circle in her excitement. "Come for a visit to your number one fan? Oh, we should totally get our nails done."

Marinette gently peeled Chloé's hand off her arm.

"I'm not here for that," she said, then quickly added, "but maybe a different time."

"Oh," the other girl said, obviously disappointed.

Marinette took a deep breath.

"You seemed to know I was coming," she started, treading carefully. A wrong move, and Chloé would know exactly who her hero was – and Marinette wasn't sure if she'd like her.

"Oh," Chloé said again, looking away. "Yeah. Marinette was right…"

"Really?"

"She said I should keep an eye out… for _you_. And you came! I can't believe it."

"Ah," Marinette said, rubbing the back of her neck. "She contacted me privately and asked me to come—"

"She has your _number?_ Why don't I have your number?"

 _You could get anyone's number if you wanted,_ Marinette thought, but she kept her mouth shut, opting for a different approach.

"No," she corrected. "Marinette used the Ladyblog to private-message me."

Chloé raised an eyebrow. "The Ladyblog?"

Marinette shrugged guiltily. She tried not to be biased, but Alya really did run a great blog – her content was original, and she'd set up forums and other things that made the Ladyblog feel more like a community than anything.

"But why?" Marinette asked, gazing coolly at Chloé. "Why did she ask me to visit you, of all the people in Paris?"

Chloé opened her mouth and then closed it. She seemed to struggle with herself for a moment.

"I…" she started. "I made a mistake."

Marinette raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest.

This— this wasn't what she'd been expecting when she'd decided on a whim to visit. She'd wanted to hear the story from an outsider's point of view, but Chloé admitting to a mistake was something Marinette thought she'd _ever_ hear in her life.

"I see," she said finally.

Chloé wrapped her arms around herself.

Marinette was suddenly hit with how important this moment was. As Ladybug – as a hero of Paris, as _Chloé_ 's hero – what she said and did could change Chloé.

For a moment, a boiling anger that Marinette thought was gone rose to the surface. She could berate Chloé, could knock her down a few pegs – and the temptation called, the want almost overwhelming.

But…

But Marinette knew better than that. _She_ was better than that.

"What will you do, Chloé Bourgeois?" she asked, lifting her chin though she kept her voice kind. "What do you want?"

Chloé wavered. She bit her lip and hesitated.

"I want to be seen," she said finally.

Marinette looked at her, looked at this made-up girl in front of her. There was the bright yellow jacket Marinette used to poke fun at sometimes. There were her eyes — she'd always called them icy, though now they looked different. There was the girl she'd known forever.

Mayor's daughter. Rich. Snobby. Class bully. Queen bee.

She was all of these things and more. For a moment, Marinette let the names fall away until she was looking at just Chloé.

They regarded each other for a moment. Then Marinette reached out and put a hand on Chloé's shoulder.

"I see you."

Chloé smiled.

Marinette left the Bourgeois mansion feeling lighter. As she swung through the streets, she felt like she was flying.

There was a beeping as she flew past the bakery, and Marinette slowed, her heart racing.

"Hey, _chaton_ ," she said, grinning as Chat's face filled the little screen of her yo-yo.

" _Milady,_ " he said in response. His eyes were bright. " _Heard you were running around. Don't you have homework to do?_ "

"Oh, hush," Marinette said. "It was important. And there's not _that_ much, anyway."

" _Finish that paper yet?_ "

Marinette turned her eyes towards the sky. Her mouth twisted into a frown.

"…No."

She changed the subject, perching on a random rooftop and propping herself up with a hand.

"Why are you transformed?"

" _I could ask you the same question. There's always time for superheroes, though, yeah?_ "

"Always time to procrastinate," she mumbled, and he laughed.

" _Just wanted to call in since we're both running around in the streets, heh. Do you want to meet for patrol tonight?"_

"Um— sure," she replied, running over a mental list of what she wanted to do. She'd go home for dinner and a bit of homework; it was enough time.

" _It's a date, then_?"

Marinette scoffed.

"In your dreams," she replied without thinking.

" _One day,_ " Chat said, winking. She hoped he couldn't see her blush — he'd never let her live it down.

"I'll, um, see you later," Marinette said quickly, standing up and stretching out. "You know how it is. Things to do, places to be…"

He winked at her again through the little screen.

" _See you tonight, milady._ "

It was after she'd almost crashed into some poor Parisian's window that she figured maybe swinging around wasn't a great idea anymore. Marinette detransformed in a back alleyway, the flash of light unnoticed.

"What a day," Tikki commented.

Marinette heaved a long sigh.

"Yeah."

"Not over yet, though."

Marinette just shook her head. "Let's go see Master Fu, huh?"

The wind chimes by the door sang as Marinette stepped inside, slipping off her shoes and twisting her hands together.

"Hello?" she called, hoping she wasn't intruding.

"Ah," Master Fu said, appearing out of one of his many rooms and beckoning her inside. "I thought you would come."

She followed him and sat down on the floor, criss-crossing her legs and setting the box of macarons she'd brought onto the table as Master Fu poured them both tea, a familiar sight.

Tikki herself settled on a spare coaster, munching away happily on the few extra cookies Marinette had brought for her.

She blew across the top of the tea, steam rising above her heads, before taking a tentative sip and hissing as it burnt her tongue. Master Fu laughed, and Marinette pretended to be mad, crossing her arms but failing to keep the smile off her face.

"This always happens," she muttered. Tikki giggled.

Silence stretched between them. Marinette wriggled uncomfortably as Master Fu studied her, looking as calm as he always did.

"I see you've been busy, Ladybug," he said finally, and Marinette blushed a little, though she didn't know why.

"I guess," she said, fiddling with her shirt.

He arched an eyebrow at her.

"Tell me," he prompted, and she huffed back at him, though she stopped when she realized it wasn't quite respectful.

"It's nothing you wouldn't know, though," she quipped, and Master Fu smiled.

"I'd like to hear it regardless."

Marinette let out a long breath, her shoulders slumping, and complied. She told him about retrieving her earring, about the akuma escaping and how terrified she'd been of it. How a moment of desperation had made her find the strength to reclaim Ladybug.

Once she started talking, Marinette found she couldn't stop. It was like everything she'd held back – from her friends, from her family, even from Adrien – now came bursting forth into the light.

She told him about Miraculous Ladybug, and about the statue: the dying flowers she kept on her table, the thousands of messages that had been left there for her, the piece of red thread, the Lucky Charm.

Marinette paused for a moment, pressing her lips together.

"Do… do soulmates exist?"

Master Fu smiled kindly. "I would think so, yes."

Marinette tried to find the words to a question that had been burning on her mind, but they all felt wrong somehow. Not quite right.

"But what- I mean, how…? Is it– are we, were we already…?"

Had fate decided she and Adrien were soulmates, whatever that meant? Had she long since chosen them for the Miraculous? Or had it been their own decisions – a single act of kindness to an old man – that had gotten them to where they were?

"You asked Adrien what he thought your thread meant," Master Fu commented. "What do _you_ think it means?"

Was it fate that had found her unsung heroes and made them superheroes, a thread of red tied around their pinkies?

Maybe it was the other way around. Maybe they'd always been heroes, their ballads unsung — and no one had known, and this – _this_ , all of it – had been about finding themselves.

Unbidden, her fingers rose in the air, searching for a hand to hold. For a promise made.

Master Fu smiled. His eyes shone with knowledge.

"It's dinnertime," he said, standing. Marinette stumbled to her feet.

"Right. Uh, right. Yeah."

He tapped his head with a finger.

"Think about it, Ladybug."

She bowed her head back at him. "Thank you… Master Fu."

Marinette went home with a heavy heart. She couldn't stop thinking about it – about all of it. She remembered the Chinese legends Mama had told her when she'd been younger, remembered the feeling of pure power when she'd touched her miraculous for the first time, remembered meeting Chat's gaze and knowing they were meant for each other in some way.

She was still thinking about it as night fell, tapping her pen against the table as she stared at her blank homework pages. Tikki had left her alone to her thoughts, lounging quietly.

"Marinette," Tikki called, the first time she'd spoken since that afternoon. "It's time for patrol."

She sat up straight, turning to look at the time.

"Oh, no, I'm going to be late! Tikki, _transforme-moi!_ "

She bounded out of her room, taking a second to revel in the nighttime air before she was running towards the Eiffel Tower at full speed. The world passed in a blur; cool air kissed her face and tugged at her hair.

When she drew nearer, she saw a figure standing in the beams, waiting.

"Sorry," she called, swinging down to stand next to Chat. "I know I'm late."

He shrugged.

"Only just got here myself. Ready to go?"

Marinette took his hand and found it warm, even through their suits. She glanced at him sideways.

"Let's go."

Patrols were usually quiet affairs. They'd make their rounds, keeping an eye out for any trouble.

Marinette had always enjoyed patrols, though. It was a time for late night talks, for finding out new things about her partner – bits and pieces, of course, never enough to figure out each other's identities.

Well, she supposed. That part was all out in the open now.

"So what _were_ you doing today?"

"Hmm?"

The two of them paused on a flat rooftop, and Chat leapt over to the edge, sitting down and swinging his legs over. After a moment, Marinette joined him.

"I went to see, ah, Chloé, actually."

He blinked at her slowly, for a moment embodying the cat he was. His green eyes, reflecting the city lights, looked brighter in the dark.

"Really?"

"Really," she said.

He nodded then bumped their shoulders together playfully.

"Want to grab a bite to eat?"

"Not a date," she reminded him, but she stood up anyway. They slipped into a nearby old café, smiling at the surprised waitress who almost spilled their tea as she brought it out.

They found a nice corner to sit in, tucked away by the windows. It was low key enough that no one would bother them, and the waitress in the front busied herself with cleaning some tables, though she glanced over every few minutes.

"So," Chat said in a low voice. His gaze flickered to the side. "Not a date?"

She frowned at him.

"Shut it, you."

He smirked at her but didn't push it – not here.

They chatted lightly instead. Marinette stirred her tea, watching her drink ripple, and lost herself in her thoughts again.

"Hey," Chat said quietly. Their knees knocked together.

"Sorry," she murmured after a moment. "Just have a lot to think about tonight."

"Chloé?"

She shook her head but said nothing else.

"I'm really glad to have you, you know," Marinette said, leaning back in her chair so she could study him. The moonlight framed him nicely, silver lining his shoulders and the side of his face.

"I'm lucky to have you," he replied, "though I don't know why you're still hanging around a black cat."

"A— _Chat_ , why would you say that?"

He shrugged. "Bad luck, yeah?"

She pushed her cup aside and reached across the table. He took her hand without a moment's hesitation.

"I wouldn't trade you for anything," Marinette said. "Do you believe me?"

He swallowed thickly.

"Yes."

"I'm glad I met you," she continued, then lowered her voice until it was barely above a whisper. "I'm glad you're my partner. And— thank you, Adrien. Truly."

He leaned forward and lifted their joined hands to his heart. Marinette hoped he could see the sincerity in her eyes.

Fate or not, heroes or civilians, she'd been lucky to know him.

"Thank _you_ , Marinette."

He let go and reached for his cup, holding it up. Marinette laughed quietly and clinked hers against his.

"To us," he said. Marinette glanced into her tea.

"To us, Chat Noir," she echoed.

He inclined his head. "Ladybug."

"I've been… looking for something…" she started, but her voice faded.

Across the city, Marinette imagined that red string she'd tied between them — and wondered if that had been her choice. Fate. Circumstance. Two kind hearts, two kindred spirits.

Searching, maybe, for something more. Always looking for something, for someone.

She'd found him first. A ladybug and a cat, an unlikely duo of sorts, but they'd made it work. And somewhere along the way, she'd found parts of herself, too.

Her hand found Adrien's. She curled her fingers into his and pressed their pinkies together.

 _I love you_ , she said through her hand. Marinette wondered if he knew, if he understood. She'd find the bravery to really tell him one day.

He caught her eye and smiled.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

Marinette ran her thumb over his knuckle. She studied the black mask that clung to his face, the light that made his hair a silvery-gold, the little details she hadn't realized she'd memorized.

"Yeah," she replied, smile spreading across her face. "I think I have."

.

.

.

the end.

* * *

 **...This is it, guys. This is really, really it.**

 **I'd like to say a few things. First of all, I just want to thank every one of you for joining me for this story. Your kindness and your support have no bounds, and they bolstered me through hard times. This story is yours as much as it is mine.**

 **I also just want to say that this story is so important to me. So, so dear to my heart. It started as a _what if_ that became so much more. It turned into a letter to myself, a journey for myself. I became Marinette; Marinette became me. Her struggle. Her hardships. Her journey. **

**I hope you've found yourself somewhere, too.**

 **Thank you for letting me tell this story. Thank you. Thank you. _Thank you_. **

**As for what's next— there's a sequel in the works, so stay tuned.**

 **With all my love,**

 _achieving elysium_


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